


Cementing Heritage

by RaphaelsDaughter



Series: Compare and Contrast the Following [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: All is not as it Appears to be, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Captain America: The First Avenger - Freeform, Characters watching Films, Coping, Drama, F/M, Full Descriptions of Movies!, Gen, Gradual Slash, Insomnia, Internal Conflict, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, References to Norse Mythology, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Temporal Displacement, World War II, movie!verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaphaelsDaughter/pseuds/RaphaelsDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returned to Earth, Loki and the Avengers reconvene with SHIELD and are found to have been presented with another disc. They watch ‘Captain America: The First Avenger’. The events depicted tell of the true powers of the Tesseract, as well as the beginnings of SHIELD and the Captain the team now follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returned to Earth, Loki and the Avengers reconvene with SHIELD and are found to have been presented with another disc. They watch ‘Captain America: The First Avenger’. The events depicted tell of the true powers of the Tesseract, as well as the beginnings of SHIELD and the Captain the team now follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Nidhogg: the serpent that chews on a root of Yggdrasil, the one connected to Nifleheim. This monster feeds on those guilty of murder, adultery, and oath-breaking – those who dwell in the Realm of the Dishonoured Dead, filled with mist and ice.

The Avengers’ return from the Realm Eternal was hailed with a lot of attention from SHIELD. The debriefings, explanations, and imminent paperwork filled the days as the organization noted every detail that had not been heard through Tony’s earpiece as well as formalized a division for research on Ӕsir culture and hypotheses on directing the future negotiations to humanity’s advantage. Pepper and Phil discussed the happenings of Stark Industries, production and issues theorized by the agent concerning the Board of Directors, Tony drawn to consult and sign the papers reneging SHIELD’s control over the position in his company.

Loki, as stated, had fallen into a healing coma. Though the group was agitated at the turn advertising injury, Thor assured that it was the quickest way for him to regain his strength. Guard at his bedside rotated in his rooms on the 90th, one member of the team on watch at all times while the rest exhausted hours on the waterborne Helicarrier, Jarvis monitoring the god’s state. Thor was demanded by Fury often, though was comfortable leaving his brother’s side because of the general lack of threat now present, the lessened strain and therefore longer recovery period allowed, and his teammates’ vigilant watch in his place in light of their own concerns. Aside from aiding with and explaining the culture of Asgard to SHIELD, the Director had use of the god for contributing to the generation of new terms of compensation for the contract with Loki.

With the Other, the Chitauri, and Thanos dead, and the Ӕsir renouncing their affiliation with him, the condition of defending Loki against them was lost in return for his services. Another point of persuasion had to be offered in exchange for the magic and advanced technology he had intimate knowledge of.

The belief held by Thor that Loki had nowhere to go and had bonded with the team was not a concrete enough situation for the World Security Council when dealing with the Trickster, no matter how weakened.

Almost a week of organization and reorientation was afforded before Loki stirred to the sound of a male muttering at his side. ‘No, Tony- I said no! You can’t use the Other Guy to clear the streets of skyscrapers… Because more would probably be torn down!...Tony, stop it – I’m busy… Yes, watching him…”

The god’s eyes remained closed as he rose further into awareness, Bruce’s voice recognized and his hearing now catching the billionaire’s voice on the other end of the telephone line asking, _“Has there been any change?”_

“Not yet,” he answered. “You have Jarvis ready to alert everyone when there is.”

 _“I have him set for that if he worsens or no one’s paying attention,”_ he countered, advocating, _“Do you think he’ll wake up sooner if I threaten to throw glitter on him?”_

“What are you, five?” Bruce hissed, failing to contain an amused tone.

“Do inform Anthony,” Loki interjected, “that if I find a speck of glitter on my person he will find that his metal suit glows an obnoxious shade of pink.”

“Loki!” he addressed in surprise as Tony swore, _‘Fuck it worked – put me on speaker!’_

The god’s eyes blinked open to the semi-familiar surroundings of his suite in the Tower, Bruce in the armchair that had been dragged from the common room to the side of his bed.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned.

“A great deal better, thank you,” he replied.

 _“Sure,”_ Tony drawled in disbelief.

“When I have reached the point that I’m rendered unconscious so to heal, my magic doesn’t exactly allow me to awaken without having recovered some measure of strength so to defend myself,” Loki explained. “What are you even doing?”

_“SHIELD’s forced us into signing things and helping fix the city. Which, is stupid, as they’ve had, like, three weeks for this – and they’re supposed to be this massive organization with unlimited resources, that come from my pocket, by the way-”_

“He was trying to find an excuse to avoid it,” Bruce clarified.

 _“I’m checking in – very worriedly,”_ he objected. _“And you just gave me a great excuse – so ha!... Shit, Phil’s eyeing me…”_

“Your interpersonal relationships are very interesting,” Loki remarked as he slowly levered himself up. _‘You’ve no idea how intimidating his emotionless-face-that’s-fooling-nobody is,’_ Tony replied. When the movement upset neither balance nor pain ratio he shifted to move the covers from himself and place his legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Careful,” Bruce warned. “Shouldn’t you rest some more?”

“I need to bathe, and eat,” he countered. “Are there any clothes I can borrow? I’m not going to waste energy conjuring or configuring anything.”

“Don’t worry about it – I’ll find something,” he offered as he exited, turning off the speakerphone on the cell he carried, “and there are a lot of leftovers I can reheat for you so you don’t have to cook.”

‘Thank you’ he heard as he shut the door behind him and raised the phone to his ear in the common.

 _“If I was sick in bed would you cook and help dress me?”_ Tony cooed.

“Well, you said you started carrying spare pants in your suit in case I transform, so it would be only fair,” Bruce stated.

Tony laughed. _“Speaking of lack of clothing, your wardrobes are sinful – I’m making a note to take you all shopping. No one in my tower’s going to be without clothes – unless by choice, or vote, or Naked Tuesdays.”_

“Tony, there isn’t going to be any public nudity,” he argued with a flush.

_“I’ll concede to that so long as private nudity includes four people or more.”_

“No orgies either!”

_“That that has to be said is fantastic – I’m going to have Jarvis record and print this and stick it on the fridge… Seriously though, I’m heading back. And Phil’s stalking me with paperwork for Loki – just so you know.”_

“Alright.”

He hung up and sighed, shaking his head before drawing his attention to Loki’s needs. “Jarvis,” he called, “are there any clothes that would fit Loki?”

“Both Mr. Odinson and Mr. Rogers’ heights allow for a suitable replacement,” the AI answered promptly, “though I would suggest the latter due to the more similar dimensions of their torsos.”

“Thanks,” he said before requesting, “Could you give me the number of the phone Tony gave him?”

“I believe Sir inserted it into your contacts’ list, Dr. Banner.”

‘Oh.’

After the Captain agreed to lend Loki some clothing and Bruce had received permission from him to move into his rooms, he ventured to retrieve the articles (only to ask Jarvis his opinion on what Loki wore and have to call Thor for consent to relieve him of a pair of his pants). He returned to the level above and left the clothes on Loki’s bed before searching through the fridge on his half for something to reheat.

When Tony arrived on their floor, the door to Bruce’s half was open and he poked his head in to find the two eating a late lunch of Italian. Bruce sat on one side of the island working through the leftover spaghetti he had ordered two days before with his pale shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Loki across from him eating the half lasagna spared the night before because they had ordered two for the group, grey t-shirt donned over black leather pants cut just below the knee.

“Grey cotton looks weird on you,” Tony greeted as he joined them, detouring to the cupboards to grab a mug and then the coffeemaker Jarvis had turned on earlier to place it underneath.

“Steve doesn’t have anything black,” Bruce defended.

“It’s only temporary,” Loki reassured. “What’s important is that I’m going to need more food – only a third of this is digesting, the majority converted into energy to more quickly heal my core.”

“Okay then – pizza,” Tony said. “Are we feeding you ‘till you’re full, or until your magic’s healed up?”

“Both, though the second certainly won’t be achieved today.”

Fifteen minutes later, the time during spent with the two scientists avoiding interrogating Loki and instead conversing lightly with each other as he ate, the sound of the elevator signalled an arrival and Phil entered holding four boxes of pizza.

“Hey! Good call – I bet you’re tipped more,” Tony teased.

“The bill was sent to you,” he retorted, placing the boxes on the surface of the island. Loki glanced lengthily at the additions until he finished the lasagna and was able to begin devouring the new fare.

After a few minutes, Loki asked searchingly, “What brings you here, Agent Coulson?”

“Director Fury sent me to check on you and ensure our end of the agreement was being upheld.”

“And in hopes to renegotiate the contract, I assume?”

“What?” Bruce questioned. “What’s wrong with it?”

“The one he signed before had SHIELD protecting him – but the Chitauri and Thanos are dead, and Asgard has thrown him to us-”

“-so there’s nothing of substance offered for improving your understanding of magic, or my advancement of your technology,” Loki concluded.

“Which is why SHIELD is proposing this,” Phil professed, a pristine sheaf of paper removed from the inside of his suit jacket and held out.

Loki paused before accepting the item, Bruce and Tony conspicuously leaning over to read the revised segment under ‘Compensation’:

_-The impossibility of any and all reprimand/action by the Company in regards to affiliations and/or deeds against the party, its allies, their interests, property, and/or assets prior to the date of the Agreement first above written._  
_-The aforementioned includes the defense of his person against the Company’s competitors (i.e. those who would seek to terminate the covenant of this Agreement), any of whom might desire the enforcement of a penalty for the above activities._

Tony choked as Bruce gaped, Loki tilting his head in intrigue. _They are releasing me from any of the consequences from my part in the invasion?_ Loki construed. He perused the rest of the document at a glance, the only other aspect modified a slight addition to ‘Services’ reading that he ‘shall aid the Company in repairing any damage caused by either the direct or indirect action’ of himself.

 _The advantages for them with my continued aid far outweigh those otherwise, it would seem,_ he thought, _especially now that I’ve a lessened number of enemies hostile towards me. Maintaining their prejudice towards how I arrived would only prove a hindrance to them, so they are offering a renewal of the relationship in hopes that it will be more than a temporary arrangement._

_The subtext of the added clause to my services to them indicates this… It may seem to be ensuring that I provide aid in repairing the damage the city has already sustained, but the tense covers all time periods. It’s against this very agreement that I bring harm to anyone, so what are the circumstances in the future that would necessitate destruction and yet be of use to SHIELD? Well, working with the Avengers in defending Midgard, of course. Any property damage would decrease in significance if I was on hand to reverse it with my magic._

“Very interesting,” Loki murmured.

Tony and Phil stared at him in the tense silence of consideration while Bruce fidgeted, returning to his seat to feign occupation with the crusted remains of food on his plate.

The god eventually exhaled a heavy sigh, proclaiming, “I should keep a pen around for things like this,” as he held out a hand.

* * *

Phil departed for the Helicarrier after indulging Tony’s inquisition concerning the relationship between Loki and SHIELD as now perceived by the Council, the god separating from the two as well to return to his rooms to rest. The rest of the team was led into Bruce’s half when they were freed from the duties Fury had them occupied with, and notified of the circumstances of the new agreement.

“Cleared of all charges, can you believe it?” Tony asked incredulously.

“When the option was to lose another Ӕsir fighting with us and not knowing anything about magic? Yes,” Natasha replied.

“Thank you for all you have done, my friends,” Thor declared.

“He hasn’t made it easy,” Clint remarked, “but from that first disc we’ve all been thrown off.”

“That he’s been attacked and almost killed has changed things too,” Bruce added with a shrug.

“Gotta hate that hero complex,” Tony said with a smirk.

* * *

Primarily left to their own devices the following day, there was time for each Avenger to muse on the changes of schedule that would have to be applied now that Loki was conscious. “He is still healing, so he cannot display anything for Anthony and Bruce,” Thor uttered, Steve having joined him.

“I’m sure Tony’s thinking of simple questions for him,” he sighed, “but you’re right – he does have to rest.”

“And eat – apparently they didn’t expect him to consume as much as he did yesterday,” he laughed.

“Loki probably isn’t even up yet,” Steve remarked after a glance revealed that just-before-noon was displayed on the kitchen appliances. “Do we have to wake him up so he eats?”

“We do – we should all dine together!” Thor proposed enthusiastically.

“Okay – I don’t like that we’re always separated anyways. Jarvis?”

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

“Could you tell everyone we’re cooking lunch and to join us, please?”

“Of course.”

The resulting parties cooking ended up being Steve and Bruce, with Thor contributing to prep work. Because of the large group and impromptu gathering, it was decided that a couple of mass stir-fries would be easiest, utilizing most everything in the fridges of the floor. Chicken and vegetables in a teriyaki sauce was served first, followed shortly by a beef, potato, and onion barbeque combination. Clint, Natasha, Tony, and Bruce selected the former while Steve, Thor, and Loki chose the latter, though everyone tried each, and Loki intended to finish all that was left over.

“So, whose idea was this family-style thing?” Tony asked, having ceased eating first and was now sipping a glass of whiskey.

‘Thor’s,’ Loki muttered as the god pronounced, “It was mine!”

“I wanted to talk to you all though,” Steve commented. “Hold on.”

The Captain exited to exchanged, questioning looks between those at his back before those still eating finished and stacked their plates on the counter, Loki drawing the remaining food onto his dish so the rest of the cookware could be removed from the surface of the island as well. Steve came back to his seat to place a slim object in front of them.

A disc.

“What the hell?!” Tony cursed as Clint swore under his breath.

“Where did you find it?” Natasha interrogated.

“The first was made by my mother and the Norns, the second, the Other,” Thor reminded.

“Frigga gave it to me before we left Asgard,” he answered.

* * *

_She pulled him aside, pressing a slim case into his hands. “You can see all that has been accomplished through knowledge of the past,” she started, “this is yours._

_“It is your choice what will be done with it, but each of you has a beginning that defines who you are and what you bring to each other. Yours also shows that of the Tesseract, HYDRA, and SHIELD – and what escalated into the future of heroes and villains that Midgard now divides her powerful forces._

_“Reliving all that happened will open old wounds, but it will help them to heal. And help others in aiding you.”_

* * *

“What does it show?” Loki asked.

“My past, apparently,” he responded, a wariness in his expression when his eyes flicked onto the disc. “I’d rather SHIELD…not be a part of this one,” Steve tentatively implored. “If anything important is told we can report it later.”

“We don’t have to watch it,” Bruce offered.

“It’s here,” he objected. “Besides, we saw a lot of you two,” he said with a gesture to the two gods.

“More team bonding, yay,” Clint griped mockingly as they uncertainly moved into the common area, a long L-shaped couch situated in front of the flat screen television mounted on the wall across. Loki claimed the long chaise at one end, Thor beside him before Steve, Natasha folded in the corner. Clint perched on the arm of what served as the shorter end that Bruce sat on, Tony inserting the disc to the system for Jarvis to control before he nudged Bruce closer to Natasha and sprawled on the cushion left between him and the archer.

_A strong breeze whistled through the air before gathering into a howling wind that tossed heavy snow over the blanketed tundra._

Confused expressions overtook the faces of the group, the ambiguity of the setting unhelpful in marking time and place.

_Bright high beams shone weakly through the white-out, briefly illuminating a dark figure that began waving in front of the vehicle. The large truck slowed to a halt before the man insulated within an orange hooded, thick parka, gloves, and goggles, who propped up the staff he held topped with glowing orange mark to call attention to his stance._

_A door on either side swung out to allow the departure and approach of two others similarly dressed, though in black, and he asked them, “You the guys from Washington?”_

_“You get many other visitors out here?” one questioned rhetorically before the other interrogated,_

_“How long have you been on site?”_

_“Since this morning,” he answered. “A Russian oil team called it in about eighteen hours ago.”_

_“How come nobody spotted it before?”_

_“Really not that surprising,” he explained, “this landscape’s changing all the time. You got any idea what this thing is, exactly?” Another surveyor of the area strode in the same direction some distance to their right._

_“I dunno – it’s probably a weather balloon.”_

_“Haha, I don’t think so,” he laughed. “You know, we don’t have the equipment for a job like this.”_

_“How long before we can start craning it out?”_

_“I don’t think you quite understand – you guys are going to need one hell of a crane!”_

_A sharp curve stuck out of the drifts, the wingtip of what was unmistakably an aircraft protruding from the buried remains. Orange markers dotted the air above the five walking its base, barely reaching the half point of the length revealed, a blue light swivelling from the explorations of a man that had climbed to travel the top running over the rim. The two newcomers gaped as they stared up at the size, marks set in the snow further behind in the outline of a behemoth, triangular plane._

Steve crossed his arms over his chest in recognition of the Valkyrie, the aircraft he had crashed, while the human viewers pursed their lips at recollecting the aftermath of the Captain’s deeds. The two gods noted the others’ reactions, but were unaware of the details of the timeline the disc would be moving between.

_As the sun set, bags of equipment were laid nearby to supplement constant work. The vehicle was parked and a mechanism overhanging from the back was distended to spin around, and around, pointed down and slicing gradually through the surface of the craft with a teal laser. The metal supports of the interior stretched cold and ice covered as the laser spun to imprint on the floor below, the circle of the ceiling finally falling to collapse with a clang, its edge smoldered and followed by flurries of snow and a cylinder of reflected daylight. The two repelled down one after the other, safety suits donned with enclosed visors and breathing apparatuses, powerful lights in hand._

_“Base, we’re in,” the lead reported to an immediate, ‘Copy that.’_

_His head tilted for his eyes to follow the ray of light, tall frames whose welders spared material by hollowing out the unnecessary centers of beams columning the space. “What is this?” his companion queried as he switched on his appliance and shadowed him in exploring. They stepped over to what had been the control center, the glass panes coating the surface before it facing the snow below the surface of the ground instead of the skies it was designed for._

_They approached while keeping an eye on the play of light and shadow cast on the walls of the large hull, a stumble over a partially iced over hole prompting a ‘Careful.’ The empty chair of command was surrounded by a couple of feet of snow and ice, one of the men creeping closer with head tilted to the side in inspection of a patch alternating in colour. He crouched down and swiped his gloved hand over the surface to clear it._

_“Lieutenant,” he called to the other’s turning behind him. “What is it?” he asked as he drew near, twisting to address him before turning back._

_“My god,” he uttered, light affixed on the object, stunned. “Base, get me a line to the colonel,” he insisted. ‘It’s three am, sir,’ was the reply before he proclaimed, “I don’t care what time it is – this one’s waited long enough.”_

_A round shield was coated in ice on the floor, bright white star painted on navy blue, stripes of red and white circling around it._

“Do you think there’s a reason the beginning is always separated from the rest?” Natasha asked.

“Showmanship,” Tony muttered. “I have a feeling this is going to be depressing – and that we’re going to need alcohol.”

“I can’t get drunk,” Steve lamented. “And it’s the middle of the day.”

“If you cannot drink to ease your sorrow, then none of us shall,” Thor decreed firmly.

_**Tønsberg, Norway** _  
_MARCH 1942_

Loki raised an eyebrow at the name of the site that had been visited by the Ӕsir before.

_Gunshots popped in the otherwise serene night, clouded sky above shadowing the deserted cobbled streets, stone houses, and panting male that ran from the sounds of the fired rounds and a vibrating explosion. He darted through one of the wooden double doors of a monastery, locking it behind him as he warned in the native tongue, “They’ve come for it!”_

Steve furrowed his brow and leaned forward at the new scene.

_The bearded church keeper stepping down the stairs dismissed firmly in the same language, “They have before,” as the younger man barred the entrance with a plank._

_“Not like this,” he replied with an anxious gesture over his shoulder._

_The lit candles in the candelabra and torches dimly lit the area as he retorted, “Let them come. They’ll never find it.”_

_A grating sounded to the man casting his eyes over his shoulder, the elder glancing to the corners of the ceiling above as some pieces of stone broke from their supports and clattered to the floor. The younger backed away from the door as the building shook, chandelier, door, and artefacts rattling before the sound of a machine halted its movements outside. They breathed heavily in apprehension before scrambling back as the front wall and door within it were suddenly forced forward. The carved wood and slabs of stone crashed to the ground in clouds of dust, the man crying out as he was partially buried in debris._

_The forward-facing wall of a large claw remained in the gaping hole now open to the streets before beginning to retract, the old man moving forward to lift a squared stone with trembling hands to reveal the blooded skull and vacant eyes of the corpse of the other. Outside, tanks with wide tracks and piercing beams of light rolled to surround the monastery, a grey, supercharged V16 Coupé rolling to a rumbling stop with a chrome skull and six elegantly curved tentacles as a prominent hood ornament._

Steve scowled.

_Legs wrapped in leather boots stepped from the driver’s side, thick coat snapping about them as they strode around the front of the car, the man’s hands nonchalantly held behind his back._

_Inside, three soldiers struggled to push off the stone slab topping a sarcophagus at the order of their superior, who stood at the head in uniform, shouting in English, “Open it!” The church keeper watched with furrowed brow from the floor where he propped his dishevelled torso from the ground with his elbows, additional armed infantry at his other side as he cast his eyes over the haste of the men. “Quickly, before he gets-” he continued before abruptly cutting himself off at the entrance of a figure through the opening. He snapped his heels together as the three working turned in respect as well._

“Schmidt.”

_Johann Schmidt made his way carefully over the debris with the headlights’ illumination through the dust at his back as the troops under his command broke to either side before him and stood at attention. The church keeper stared silently with gradually widening eyes at the charged atmosphere developing with each step closer._

_“It has taken me a long time to find this place,” he declared, German accent rounding his unhurried speech as the HYDRA emblem glinted from his lapel. “You should be commended,” he snapped in admittance to the effort exerted, head lifting to unshadow his face from the brim of his visor hat. “Pick him up.” The man was hauled to his feet and set before Schmidt, breathing heavily. “I think that you are a man of great vision,” he began, straightening the other’s coat, “and in this way we are much alike-”_

_“I am nothing like you,” the elder countered with a fleeting smirk as he shook his head._

_“No, of course,” he conceded, “but, what others see as superstition, you and I know to be a science.”_

_“What you seek is just a legend-”_

_“Then why make such an effort to conceal it?” he questioned with a jerk of his head towards the sarcophagus. He turned to it and removed his hat as his boots sounded on the floor, handing the adornment to the officer to his right as he reached the sculpted stone. With braced stance and one forceful push of his palms the lid sailed off and toppled off the opposite side, skeletal remains revealed garbed in frayed clothing, rusted armour and sword, and a cube._

“That’s not her,” Thor observed.

_He reached in to grab the object from the curled bones of the hands, pastel blue unblemished, translucent insides stilled mist. “The Tesseract was the jewel of Odin’s treasure room,” Schmidt announced as he stared, turning to the church keeper as he allowed it to tumble from his fingers. It fractured into pieces easily, appearing to be crafted of ice to the surprise of the officer at his side. “It is not something one buries. But… I think it is close, yes?” he concluded._

_“I cannot help you.”_

_“No. But maybe you can help your village,” he posed. “You must have some friends out there, some little grandchildren, perhaps? I have no need for them to die.” The man stared at him, appalled, before he turned to face the whir of the turret on top of the tank visible through the hole in the wall. He faced Schmidt again with resignation in his expression as he heard the gun lock onto some distant target, indicating with a motion of his chin the space behind the man._

_Schmidt spun and stepped towards the wall. “Yggdrasil,” he pronounced in name of the depiction of the carving of an intricate, large tree, “the tree of the world – guardian of wisdom, and fate, also.” His gaze was drawn onto a section of her roots, a coiled serpent wrapped around one*. He ran an index finger gloved in leather over its neck before pressing the eye of the sculpture with his thumb. The section was released and protruded slightly from the wall, his hands grasping the sides of the box as he turned. The church keeper stared as he shivered, Schmidt glancing up at him before reverting his interest._

_He lifted the lid with lips parted in anticipation, bright azure light streaming from within the confines. “And the Führer digs for trinkets in the desert…” he mused, awestruck at the power contained in the artefact now in his possession. He glanced up again before stating, “You have never seen this, have you?”_

_“It’s not for the eyes of ordinary men,” he declared._

_“Exactly,” he concluded, pursing his mouth and shutting the lid. “Give the order to open fire,” he commanded as he retrieved his hat and situated it upon his head, the officer moving to relay the order in German to the others._

“Bastard,” Tony cursed.

_“Fool!” the church keeper yelled in anger, and Schmidt turned atop the debris. “You cannot control the power you hold. You will burn!”_

_“I already have,” he announced, unimpressed, retrieving his gun from its holster. He shot the old man through the heart from his hip, returning the firearm in satisfaction before reaching to touch his jaw as he flexed it, a crack having sounded. Red blood had flecked onto the pin on his chest, the substance marring the silver and staining the material behind it as the fire of tanks echoed._

“Totally called it,” Tony gritted again, finishing sarcastically, “the cheeriest of intros.”


	2. Premier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returned to Earth, Loki and the Avengers reconvene with SHIELD and are found to have been presented with another disc. The events depicted tell of the true powers of the Tesseract, as well as the depth of HYDRA’s power in WWII.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a certain lack of reaction (aside from those regarding unknown aspects/events) and focus on Steve during the film simply due to the revelation of the degree of trauma and coping only being apparent AFTER the film. Immediately after, because of Steve’s forced visualization of his past. The construction of _Thor_ was constant reaction and change in perspective of Loki, and with _The Avengers_ there was a less interesting review and continual uprooting by physical attacks. Here, there will be less change in perspective and just simply the film being informative until AFTERWARDS when the reality of Steve’s situation sets in and the group helps him cope with it all.

_The Brooklyn Bridge stretched high across the East River over the tug and steamboats plodding through the water, the Empire State and Chrysler Building reaching up into the pale blue of the sky over New York City. “O’Connell, Michael,” sounded from an enlistment officer, followed by a ‘Kaminsky, Henry,’ to his folding of a paper as he stood. The men seated in rows within the registration office had stripped of their shirts and pants for inspection, many visages blocked by the wide spread of newspapers held in hand._

“Alright, let’s see little Steve,” Tony decreed, rubbing his hands together.

Truthfully, the Captain wasn’t confident in his guess of how the team was going to react to the events of his past – before the serum. The story had been told, but his appearance had been ingrained in the minds of everyone that knew him; there was no one here who had any idea just how much smaller and how much of a hindrance he was before.

_‘U-BOATS TORPEDO SHIP OFF VIRGINIA COAST,’ the Manhattan Trirgraph declared as the next male in line remarked from behind the broad sheet, “Boy, a lot of guys getting killed over there.”_

Loki tilted his head in recognition of Steve’s voice, but the infirmity of the tenor differentiated it enough that no other in the room identified it.

_‘NAZIS RETAKE ZHITOMIR’ the Daily News informed from the paper alongside, ‘Berlin Afire After Big Raid, Hit By 350 2-Ton Bombs.’ ‘Rogers, Steven,’ sounded, and the larger newspaper was folded to the other man lowering his own obstruction and responding, “It kind of makes you think twice about enlisting, huh?”_

_Steve stood small and emaciated in contrast to those around him, placing the paper on his seat with collarbones sharp over his narrow chest. He answered in reply, “Nope,” and strode towards the call._

He had prepared himself for their retorts, guardedly watchful as their expressions were stunned into ones of disbelief.

“You look like a hobbit,” Tony remarked.

Clint snorted, “Maybe one after Saruman took over,” as Natasha chided, ‘Talk Tolkien another time.’

“It was the Depression – everyone was malnourished,” Bruce defended.

“I had a lot of health problems, too,” Steve finally interjected, the comments lacking the pity he had feared. Their opinions of him may change after everything was revealed, but he wasn’t responsible for the body he was born into; what mattered were his actions.

Thor and Loki displayed the most severe reactions, only the barest details known to them of the Captain’s history. It was a sobering thought, the realization, if only in the least, the lengths of the journey he had taken to reach the point where his strength and leadership were rival to those raised in Asgard. He had not been born of privilege and trained as a warrior; he had to fight for a place in the ranks of those perceived as worthier.

_“Rogers,” the officer began from behind the podium a few had gathered in line in front of, Steve lifting his chin with a firm gaze. He glanced over the file before sweeping his eyes over the blond’s much shorter form, raising an eyebrow before returning to the notes. “What’d your father die of?” he asked._

_“Mustard gas,” he stated. “He was in the 107th infantry – I was hoping I could be assigned there-”_

_“Your mother?” he interrupted._

_“She was a nurse, in a TB ward,” Steve obliged. “Got hit, couldn’t shake it.”_

_His brows furrowed as he read the ‘Summary of Patient Health Issues’ presented: asthma, scarlet fever, sinusitis, chronic or frequent colds, high blood pressure, palpitation or pounding in heart, easy fatigability, heart trouble, nervous trouble of any sort, has had household contact with tuberculosis, parent/sibling with diabetes, cancer...’ “Sorry, son,” he pronounced as he raised his eyes._

_“Look, just give me a chance,” he pleaded._

_“You’d be ineligible on your asthma alone.”_

_“Is there anything you can do?”_

_“I’m doing it,” he asserted, grabbing the large stamp from the inkpad. “I’m saving your life.” A black 4F* was pressed onto the forms to Steve’s lowered eyes._

“Rude,” Tony snorted to Steve’s small smile at the support.

He could now look back with more understanding towards the enlistment officers, afforded the position he was in. _I was a liability – I had realized the fact in training before the Serum._ He would have felt responsible for the deaths of any of the men in the squad, his weaknesses a handicap.

_“War continues to ravage Europe,” an announcer broadcasted as a flag with the Nazi symbol fluttered in the wind. Bowed, armed soldiers trudged through ruined streets and collapsed buildings as smoke filled the air, before images were shown of well-dressed men marching in droves through an urban city, “But help is on the way!” A queue of males stood with their shirts off as a doctor walked to hold a stethoscope over their hearts, the strong-voice describing, “Every able bodied young man is lining up to serve his country.”_

_The bright light of the projector streaked through the dim theater onto the screen amidst the clicking of the shutter, older couples and women rapt at the procession along with the occasional proud male, Steve in one of the rows with a hand curled at his chin in thought. “Even little Timmy is doing his part, collecting scrap metal.” A young boy sorted through a landfill for metal objects, a troop of them then piling the garbage cans, sheets, and rods into a mound of the resource. “Nice work, Timmy.”_

_“Who cares?” a man’s voice jeered to tearful women’s narrowed eyes and others’ incredulous stares-_

Thor’s expression grew incensed at the disrespect, the voice likely heightening the dejected feelings of the captured image of the Captain.

_-as he continued, “Play the movie already!”_

_“Hey, you wanna show some respect?” Steve whispered to the other’s dismissive huff as the announcer continued, ‘Meanwhile, overseas, our brave boys are showing the Axis powers that the price of freedom is never too high.’ Injured and deceased soldiers were carried on stretchers in a display of insistence and sacrifice._

_“Let’s go – get on with it!” the man shouted again, the crowd beginning to murmur in discontent. “Hey- just start the cartoon-”_

_“Hey, you wanna shut up?” Steve defied. The brunet two rows in front of him looked over his shoulder as he stood to face him, towering over Steve in opposition as the reel added, ‘Together with Allied forces, we’ll face any threat – no matter the size.’_

Clint scowled as Natasha permitted her eyelids to linger shut as she blinked as cover from the screen for a moment in dread of the envisioned confrontation.

_In the dead-end alley outside, the man lunged to punch Steve in the jaw, the attack throwing the blond as he grunted into the cardboard and garbage can in the corner behind._

The group winced, the hit bodily hurling Steve’s small form.

_The thin metal dented at the impact of bone before Steve scrambled to his feet to face the other and was hit again._

Tony snarled as Bruce clenched his fists at his sides.

_When he whipped around, breathing heavily, he snatched the lid from one of the cans and held it before him as a shield._

A second of hope was afforded to his teammates at the defense-

_It was grabbed and tossed away before the man pulled his fist back to punch him once more._

-before they scowled and grit teeth at the beating they could take no action to prevent.

_Steve staggered to his feet leant against the wall, blinking to gather himself as he raised his small fists. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” the taller mocked in amusement._

_“I can do this all day,” he replied confidently, hopping forward to punch him for his arm to be deflected and to receive another hit to the face that flung him to sprawl over the concrete on his front._

“You often picked fights you couldn’t win, then,” Loki concluded through the tone issued with familiarity, despite Steve being at an evident disadvantage.

“It doesn’t matter what my chances are,” he remarked. “If I don’t think something’s right, I say something.”

“He was bigger than you,” Clint countered.

“Everyone was bigger than me.” Steve’s shoulders pulled back in defence as he crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny of the others’ countenances of resistance because of the circumstances they were witnessing.

_“Hey!” a soldier called as he gripped the man’s shoulder from behind and pulled to shove him away, towards the street. “Pick on someone your own size.”_

Steve was torn between smiling and wincing at the sight of his friend.

_His dark olive service uniform was pristine, a newspaper folded under one arm as the visor of his tilted peaked cap shadowed his eyes._

_The other charged and threw a punch, the soldier dodging easily and responding in kind. He was spun and fell almost to the ground at the impact of the hit, and then received a kick to his behind that forced him from the scene._

_He leisurely turned and strolled back to Steve, commenting, “Sometimes I think you like getting punched.”_

“It’s a sad state on Midgard when no one intervenes except for someone who recognizes you,” Loki mentioned blithely, sinking back into the couch cushions at the conclusion of the beating.

“It was just a part of life,” Steve said, “I know back-alley fights took up half my time.”

_Bent over his knees panting, Steve shook the dirt from his hand before he protested, “I had him on the ropes.” He groaned as he raised a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed away the pain._

_Bucky bent to pick up a piece of paper as he asked, “How many times is this?” He looked over the rejected application to question rhetorically, “Oh, you’re from Paramus now?”_

“Smooth,” Tony drawled in surprise and approval.

_“You know it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?”_

_He halted his hissing and brushing dirt from his ill-fitted clothes to furrow his brow at the other’s dress. “You get your orders?” he asked._

_“The 107th,” Bucky reported with an apologetic sigh, “Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.”_

_Steve huffed in irritation and shook his head. “I should be going.”_

_He dusted his palms off one another as Bucky watched, before the latter’s mouth split in a grin and he grabbed Steve around the shoulders. “Come on, man,” he encouraged. “My last night – gotta get you cleaned up,” he muttered with an encompassing gesture as he released him._

_“Why? Where we going?”_

_“The future,” he responded, handing over the paper. Steve gazed down at the large photograph of the Stark Industries globe, a firework erupting in the captured corner of the sky. ‘WORLD EXPOSITION OF TOMORROW,’ 1943._

“This is really disorienting,” Bruce remarked at the brazen year pronounced on the black and white print.

“It’ll be easier when I look like this,” Steve suggested with a defenceless shrug.

“Nah, your attitude’s all there,” Tony objected to his shock, though his spine was tense. “It’s everything else.”

_“I don’t see what the problem is,” Bucky said as the frame of the welded globe rose behind a roller coaster that streaked past, fireworks illuminating the dark sky as he and Steve descended a row of steps. Crowds were gathered in the courts before the tower, suits, uniforms, hats, umbrellas, and canes the mark of men and skirts, blouses, dresses, and softer caps that of women. “You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York-” he pointed out, “-you know there’s three and a half million women here?”_

_“Well, I’d settle for just one,” he retorted._

_“Good thing I took care of that,” Bucky proclaimed absentmindedly as a smirk erupted and he rose a hand in a wave. Two women at the base of one of the statues of trumpeters had caught his eye, one waving back as she cried, ‘Hey Bucky!’_

_Steve’s eyes widened and steps faltered before he shot the other an unimpressed look. He composed himself and asked, “What’d you tell her about me?”_

_He faced him with a teasing smile as he said, “Only the good stuff,” Steve adjusting his bangs with a sigh._

“Cute,” Natasha stated at the situation, smirks on the others’ lips as Steve flushed.

_“Welcome to the Modern Marvels pavilion,” the announcer over the PA greeted from overhead, “and the World of Tomorrow.” Stark Industries was in red lettering over a darkened stage in the background as ‘A greater world, a better world,’ echoed overhead, the Tell-O-Vision, Earth’s Treasure, and Dr. Phineas Horton’s The Synthetic Man shining above bright daises._

_The tempo of the music changed into that of an attention-grabbing swing tune as suddenly the masses started chatting, a women squealing, ‘Howard Stark – let’s go see him!’_

Tony’s jaw clenched as he exhaled, Clint, Natasha, and Loki’s eyes discreetly skimming over his form.

_The female between Bucky and her friend said excitedly, “Oh, my God, it’s starting!” looking to them both before pulling them by the hands in the direction of the stage with a giggle._

_Steve trailed behind as they weaved through the applauding crowd before darting to stand behind them as a woman heralded, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mister Howard Stark!”_

_The stage was lit with spotlights on the center, a cherry 1940 Chevy Tudor behind five showgirls in ladies' suits over shorts, top hats and heels, turning to the man entering stage left. He hopped into view before sauntering in a tailored suit to hand his top hat to the woman who approached with the microphone, placing a lingering kiss to her lips and then stepping back with the mike as she trot off with a smile. One of the crowd called, ‘I love you, Howard!’ as he wiped the lipstick from his mouth with a handkerchief, the girls rounding the car, his dark hair and mustache neat as he charmingly smiled at the congregation._

“You look very much like him,” Thor observed, not mentioning that the entrance displayed parallels of character. Tony merely winced. The blond sensed much discomfort regarding the man’s relationship with his father through the passing comments he had caught, and further from some of Loki’s expressions in response to the same, but even without detail it seemed to be a topic avoided by the group. _Wounds left to fester cannot heal,_ he thought.

_“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, Steve offering a bit of his concession snack to his date to be looked at in disbelief before she turned back to the display-_

“Cold shoulder,” Clint jeered lightly, detracting some from both Loki and Tony’s dwelling on Howard.

_-“what if I told you, that in just a few short years, your automobile won’t even have to touch the ground at all?” The audience gasped as the women removed the four wheels from the vehicle to expose the devices that had been covered, Howard grasping the pole of the podium behind with wires that ran to the machines. ‘Yes – thanks Mandy,’ he remarked as one of the girls passed. “With Stark Gravitic Reversion Technology, you’ll be able to do just that.”_

_He turned a knob and slowly raised a lever on the control panel to whirring, the music building as the car rose to hover from the surface of the stage. ‘Holy cow,’ Bucky uttered as the people gaped, Howard smiling in pride as he held out his hand to capture the demonstration._

“Were those plans a source for your repulsor technology?” Bruce asked to Tony’s nod.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the screen and asked, “Where did that car disappear to?”

“Phil’s actually got the second model of it,” Tony muttered before smirking feebly and adding, “Calls her Lola.”

_Suddenly one of the devices started sparking, and then the technology failed for the automobile to fall back onto the flooring to wincing and turning from the clatter. After a stunned moment the audience clapped at the presentation regardless, Howard recovering, “I did say a few years, didn’t I?” with a weak smile through his discomfort._

Tony revelled at the failure, posture easing slightly.

_Steve turned away to idly examine the other exhibits when over the heads of the crowd his gaze found a poster of Uncle Sam, emblazoned, ‘I WANT YOU for the U.S. Army – Enlist Now.’_

_Howard laughed haltingly in embarrassment above as Bucky suggested, “Hey, Steve, what do you say we treat these girls…” He trailed off as he turned to find his friend absent._

“Here we go – history in the making,” Tony proclaimed.

_The United States Armed Services recruitment building stood with American flags littering the roof waving in the wind, groups passing by in front while inside an encouraging depiction of soldiers stood saluting with ‘Enlist Now’ across the bottom. The foremost figure had a darkened face, a male standing on a pressure pad before it shining a light and reflecting his own face back at him in the combat uniform. ‘Come on, soldier,’ a female laughed as she dragged him from the illusion, Steve moving to replace him to find his face appearing a foot below where it should due to his lesser height._

Thor and Loki frowned at the evident importance of stature, a reminder that each Realm had its own divisions based on gender, class, or other attributes for any success to be achieved.

_“Come on,” Bucky prodded as he pushed the back of his shoulder, “you’re kinda missing the point of a double date – we’re taking the girls dancing.”_

_“You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” he responded as he placed his hands in his pockets, head lowering for a moment before he looked back up to the distant females._

_Bucky gazed at him solemnly for a second before turning to fully face him, questioning, “You’re really gonna do this again?”_

_“Well it’s a fair, I’m gonna try my luck-”_

_“As who, Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you – worse, they’ll actually take you.”_

_“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this but I’ve told you-”_

_“This isn’t a back alley, Steve, it’s war.”_

_A balding man slowed at the other end of the hall at their argument, ‘I know it’s a war, you don’t have to tell me it’s a war-’ facial hair unshaven and dark below the wire frame glasses he watched through. ‘Why are you so keen to fight? There’re so many important jobs-’_

_“What do you want me to do, collect scrap metal-” ‘Yes-’ “in my little red wagon?” ‘-why not?’_

Loki sneered at the snub.

_“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky,” Steve fought. “Bucky, come on, there are men laying down their lives – I got no right to do any less than them._

_“That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”_

_“Right,” he drawled, skeptically posing, “‘Cause you got nothing to prove.”_

The group was torn between anger at Bucky’s disapproval and commiseration with his concern; Steve, for all his inner strength, was still very small.

_The man observed as the two stared at each other, at an impasse before one of the girls called, “Hey Sarge, are we going dancing?”_

_“Yes we are,” Bucky sung in answer as he turned to open his arms in invitation of them and the event. He faced Steve and sighed in resignation, stepping away. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” he implored._

_“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,” he remarked._

Tony snorted in amusement as others smiled.

_Bucky shook his head and strode back to him, stating, “You’re a punk,” as Steve said, ‘Jerk.’ They embraced tightly before Bucky departed again._

_“Be careful,” Steve requested, calling, “Don’t win the war ‘till I get there.”_

_Bucky turned to snap his heels together and salute him before walking down the steps. ‘Come on, girls,’ he bade, ‘they’re playing our song.’_

_Steve walked further into the building, the elder man lowering his head as he passed before noting his passage with an interested stare. He glanced forward again before the edges of his open mouth quirked upwards and he shadowed him._

“Who is that?” Thor asked.

“Dr. Erskine,” Steve answered. “He gave me a way in.”

_Steve sat in an examination room unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves when a nurse entered the curtained area and whispered instruction to the doctor to Steve’s intent notice. He nodded as she left again, ordering, “Wait here.”_

_“Is there a problem?”_

_“Just wait here.”_

_Steve sat on the medical table with the optical testing chart on the wall to his left and a warning on his right that he turned back to read. ‘It is illegal to falsify your enlistment form.’_

Bruce furrowed his brow at the realization of risk.

_His eyes darted from side to side before he stood and moved to the chair in the corner, pulling on his shoes. A military police officer entered to stand at the exit, Steve righting himself to warily meet his gaze._

_The older man that had been watching him entered next, and dismissed the other with a German-accented, ‘Thank you.’ “So, you want to go overseas – kill some Nazis,” he began, casually paging through a file._

The occupants of the room raised their eyebrows in astonishment.

_“Excuse me?” Steve responded._

_“Dr. Abraham Erskine,” he introduced. “I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”_

_“Steve Rogers,” he answered, accepting the handshake. He nodded in acceptance as he stepped over to the medical table, his file open before him. “Where are you from?”_

_“Queens,” Erskine replied, “73rd Street and Utopia Parkway.” He adjusted his glasses as he added dismissively, “Before that, Germany.” He looked to him again. “This troubles you?”_

_“No,” Steve said._

_“Where are you from, Mr. Rogers, hm?” he asked, fists curled on the edge of the surface before him. “Is it New Haven? Or Paramus? Five exams, in five different cities.”_

_“That might not be the right file-” he objected, attempting to appear unruffled._

Loki smirked at his bid at lying.

_“No, it’s not the exams I’m interested in – it’s the five tries,” Erskine proclaimed, closing and picking up the folder. “But you didn’t answer my question: do you want to kill Nazis?”_

_Steve glanced away before asking, “Is this a test?”_

_“Yes,” he said._

Chuckles were muffled.

_“I don’t want to kill anyone,” he declared. “I don’t like bullies – I don’t care where they’re from.”_

_Erskine nodded with a small smile. “Well, there are already so many big men fighting this war, maybe what we need now is a little guy, huh?” Steve exhaled slowly, Erskine continuing, “I can offer you a chance – only a chance.”_

_He exited to Steve stooping to grab his jacket and following, vowing, “I’ll take it.”_

_“Good.” He took the file to the desk and questioned, “So where is the little guy from? Actually.”_

_“Brooklyn,” he said with a smirk._

_Erskine stamped the papers and closed the folder, extending, “Congratulations, soldier,” as he walked away._

_Steve opened the file and gazed at the box in the corner, 1A* inked within it. He inhaled before exhaling heavily._

“And so it begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Classes established for the draft in the 40s:  
> Class 1A are those medically qualified for duty in all respects  
> Class 2S are those qualified but had a student deferment  
> Class 3A are those with some medical defects which disqualifies from full active service (deployment to combat theaters) but allows fulfillment of some duties (guarding fuel depots)  
> Class 4F are those with one or more medical conditions and disqualifies from serving


	3. Marching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returned to Earth, Loki and the Avengers reconvene with SHIELD and are found to have been presented with another disc. The events depicted tell of the true powers of the Tesseract, as well as the depth of HYDRA’s power in WWII.

_The wind tore noisily through the snow-capped mountain range under the pale sky, a large sturdy window in one of the rock faces._

Steve furrowed his brow slightly in question at the change in scenery.

_On the interior, Schmidt strode across the space as he asked, “Are you ready, Dr. Zola?”_

He breathed deeply as glances flit onto his countenance, Tony and Bruce leaning forward slightly at the scientific paraphernalia littering the shown vicinity.

_Tables of equipment were arranged covered in wiring, intricate devices, and monitors as a round display showed an upturned nose and eyes behind round glasses. “My machine requires the most delicate calibration,” he replied, the view that of the lens the scientist was examining with donned grey lab coat and gloves. “Forgive me if I seem overcautious.”_

_“And are you certain that those conductors of yours can withstand the energy surge long enough for transference?” he interrogated, briefly glancing over with a gesture of the photograph he had picked up from the work surface in front of him. Sculptures of the Tesseract were displayed in the images he laid over a large tome, presenting another picture of the Cube._

_“With this artifact… I am certain of nothing,” Zola answered, turning towards him. “I fear it may not work at all.”_

_Schmidt stepped deliberately over to the surface between them, the box between his hands showing the carving of a serpent. He set it down to Zola’s rapt and wary stare, then lifted the lid with his gloved hands to a bright azure light shining into the dim space. Zola scrambled to remove his glasses and replace them with tinted protective lenses as Schmidt lifted a metal handle from which four long rods shot downward, sliding it into the container’s confines._

_The appliance lifted the blindingly bright Tesseract as Schmidt raised his arm and moved to the readied device, lowering the Cube into the central hub and twisting the handle to lock it in place beneath. The blue glowed through the spaces of the mechanism as it hummed, Zola announcing the energy captured as it read on the console before him, “Twenty percent.”_

Loki gathered himself to cross a leg beneath the other and lean forward, elbow raised on bent knee and hand at his mouth in thought.

_“Forty,” he amended as he twisted the knob so to increase managing input. “Sixty…_

_“Stabilizing at seventy percent.”_

_Schmidt covered the few steps between them to Zola moving from the controls, the man announcing, “I have not come all this way for safety, Doctor,” as he turned the regulators to maximum._

“Here’s to him blowing himself up,” Tony voiced with exaggerated finger-crossing on both hands, the remark endorsing a more encouraging future of the war and accomplishing a huff of laughter from Steve.

_The gaps in the machine pulsed with azure as sparks of the energy darted over the thick wires before coalescing through and over the cables running along the floor with a snap. The table of controls was overwhelmed with the power to echoing whines and cracks, the Cube’s force skirting over the floors, up the walls, across the windows, along the ceiling, vibrating in the air before shorting out to sparking equipment._

_After a second of silence, Zola asked quietly, “What was that?”_

_Schmidt turned him by the shoulders to say, “I must congratulate you, Arnim,” as he pointed. The energy of the Tesseract hummed in a rectangular prism that the man approached gingerly. “Your designs do not disappoint – though they may require some slight reinforcement.”_

_“The exchange is stable,” Zola stated in awe. “Amazing. The energy we have just collected could power my designs- all my designs.” The inspiring apparatus containing the Cube flashed as he removed his glasses to gaze in its direction. “This will change the war.”_

_“Dr. Zola, this will change the world.”_

“HYDRA _was_ the source for SHIELD’s Tesseract-based weapons development,” Bruce responded.

“Indeed,” Loki commented. “The alignment with her power also altered the direction your technology would have developed otherwise.”

“What was it heading to before?” Clint asked.

“I don’t know, only that each Realm evolves a different area of study due to environments, interests, and peoples.”

“We have been involved in Midgard’s affairs for a long time though,” Thor interrupted.

“Yes, our interference was likely to affect things anyway,” Loki concluded in acquiesce.

_On the grounds of the training camp, soldiers stood loosely in a line donning their green field uniforms with hard helmets strapped under their chins, an officer leading a group behind with a commanding, ‘Ready, exercise!’ As others looked at their surroundings and dithered, Steve gazed forward patiently as he waited. “Recruits, attention!” a sharp female voice called abruptly, the line of arrivals straightening their backs and lifting their chins._

_“Gentlemen, I am Agent Carter,” she announced as she strode in front of them in her olive service uniform, short brown hair pinned back from her face as a man carried a crate of clipboards and papers behind her. “I supervise all operations for this division.”_

Loki and Thor wondered at her station, the opposition against Steve before seemingly clearly establishing the position of appearance and gender roles in the time. _Of course, an acquaintance with her may have been indirectly involved in the decision to provide him the oppourtunity,_ Loki considered.

_“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” one interrupted. She slowed to a stop before him as he jeered, “I thought I was signing up for the US army.”_

Natasha thought his daring was only given voice due to her gender, considering the disregard of her rank.

_“What’s your name, soldier?”_

_“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty,” he quipped._

_“Step forward, Hodge,” she replied promptly. He obeyed to exaggerated looks at the others. “Put your right foot forward.”_

_“Mm, we gonna wrestle?” he asked as he followed, sheets handed out along the line as Steve darted a disgruntled glance to him. “‘Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” He winked._

_Peggy reeled back to punch him across the nose, the force of the hit spinning him to land on the ground on his front._

“Ha,” Tony derided to the others’ self-satisfied smiles.

_Steve contained a laugh as he smirked, a vehicle pulling up and an older man in a tan field uniform with stiff leather jacket overtop calling, “Agent Carter.”_

_She spun to address, “Colonel Phillips.”_

_“I can see that you are breaking in the candidates – that’s good,” he said as he approached, Erskine behind in a brown suit._

Natasha nodded in approval of his support of her place.

_He looked down at the man getting to his feet and reprimanded, “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention until somebody comes tells you what to do.”_

_“Yes, sir!” he answered gruffly, tilting his chin up and sniffing at the blood dripping from his nose._

“Hope that one has more coming to him,” Clint muttered.

_He paused for a moment before directing at the lineup as he walked, “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men.” His gaze fell on Steve and he cast a disbelieving look at Erskine who merely returned his attention to the group, and then he continued long-sufferingly, “And because they are going to get better. Much better.” Steve’s eyes flit after Phillips as he turned away and he quirked an eyebrow._

Tony snorted a laugh.

_**“The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world.”** Steve sat on his bed in the dormitories with dog tags hanging from his neck, unpacking his suitcase and lifting books on strategy and warfare out into his hands as the other males in the room noisily conversed and jostled each other._

_**“Our goal is to create the best army in history-”** A whistle blew to the recruits climbing up a rope netting that was vertically anchored, Steve gasping as his elbows and knees jerked in their struggle to support him. **“-but, every army starts with one man.”** His legs became tangled and he fell back, clambering to regain his grip before losing his hold and hanging upside down to the officer ordering, ‘Rogers, get off of there!’ while the others laughed._

Loki clenched his jaw at the ostracizing, the exclusion on account of imprecise standardized testing never lessening in maliciousness.

_**“At the end of this week, we will choose that man.”** Steve crawled under beams wrapped in coils of barbed wire with his rifle held between his hands. ‘Let’s go!’ **“He will be the first, in a new breed of, super soldier.”** Hodge turned to look back before kicking at one of the supports, the structure partially falling to collapse on top of Steve._

“That is dishonourable,” Thor declared.

“It’s fine,” Steve shrugged, “and nothing new.”

Loki and Tony narrowed their eyes as Bruce and Clint shook their heads, incredulous.

_Laughter mocked his position as he winced, instructor moving from his conversation with Peggy to aid amidst chiding, ‘Rogers! Get that rifle out of the mud!’_

_**“And they will personally escort Adoft Hitler to the gates of Hell,”** Phillips finished._

_“Pick up the pace, ladies!” the officer compelled as the recruits jogged along a worn dirt path, the shade of the trees intermittently covering the road. A flag flapped overhead declaring, ‘NULLI SECUNDUS, 1914-1942, CAMP LEHIGH,’ around a laurel wreath encircling a star. “Let’s go, let’s go – double time!” Peggy placed the pencil in hand between her teeth as she flipped back the covering of a clipboard and browsed through the pages, twisting to observe the advance just as the man beside her, the two seated in a parked vehicle. “Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move! Squad, halt!” The troop skid to a stop beside the car, Steve a few meters behind the ranks bending over to brace his hands on his knees as he panted._

“Did you have an inhaler on you?” Bruce questioned in concern. “You had asthma.”

“A what?” Steve asked, confused.

Tony was speechless for a second before inquiring, “Jarv, when was the inhaler created?” 

“The first Metered-Dose Inhaler for asthma medication was developed in 1955,” the AI responded promptly.

“The docs had me use a squeeze bulb thing for adrenaline chloride* in hospital, but it wasn’t like I could carry it or the drug around,” Steve explained.

Tony flinched at facing the reality of the outdated technology the Captain grew up with, reassuring, “I’ll take care of you if your lungs seize up.”

“They’re not going to-”

“I’ll take care of it!”

“Alright,” Steve accepted with a small smile.

_“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter.” Steve adjusted the brim of his helmet as he looked up to the flag. “Move, move!” The men rushed en-mass with encouraging shouts: ‘Let’s get it!’ They scrambled to push one another up and yank him back down, the officer shouting, “Come on, get up there! If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Hodge latched onto the pole and began to tug himself skyward, “Get up there, Hodge! Come on, get up there!” before sliding back to the ground with his grip squealing. The group surged to replace him. ‘Let me try!’_

_“Nobody’s got that flag in seventeen years!” he proclaimed with arms crossed over his chest. “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in! Let’s go – get back into formation!” They abandoned the flag pole with groans and trot to arrange themselves as Steve walked to the base of the pole, looking at the base and then up in consideration. “Rogers! I said fall in!” the instructor bellowed._

_Steve bent to lift the pin from the end of the strut securing the pole upright, then worked it out from the other side to it swinging to land heavily on the ground with a wail of metal._

“Booyah!” Tony cried as Clint hooted.

“Shows how rare common sense is in men,” Natasha remarked.

_He tossed the implements aside and marched to remove the flag from the top, Peggy licking her lips with a smirk as her companion turned on the engine. “Thank you, sir,” Steve said breathlessly as he handed the material into his hands, then he climbed into the back of the vehicle to Peggy’s smile and others’ indignant huffing. He smiled at her amused turn towards him._

Chuckles were rampant at his haughtiness.

_“Faster, ladies – come on,” Peggy cajoled as the squad determinedly worked push-ups from the ground, stripped of their jackets and sweating through their white t-shirts underneath the sun. “My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul.” Steve grit his teeth in exertion as he lifted his shoulders and chest slower, without the rest of the form of the movement. “Move it!”_

“I’m not going to say anything about that,” Tony announced.

“Because I can pick you up with one arm now?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Or because he can’t do any,” Clint interjected.

“I can do push-ups better than that – but I’m not going to challenge any of you,” Tony justified. “‘Cept Brucie.”

“I can do push-ups,” he protested.

“But I’d be able to beat you – not these beefcakes or the two assassins here.”

“What did you just refer to me as?” Thor asked, puzzled.

“It sounded like a cake made out of beef,” Loki ruminated as Steve shared the gods’ bewilderment.

Tony huffed a chuckle before grinning widely. “It means you’ve got the layers of a cow.”

Steve and Thor furrowed their brows further as Loki narrowed his eyes and stated, “I don’t think that’s what it means.”

“Slang’s confusing,” Clint said. “It means you’re ripped.”

“-muscled,” Bruce clarified with a roll of his eyes.

_“You’re not really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?” Phillips interrogated as he approached with Erskine at his side._

_“I am more than just thinking about it – he is a clear choice,” he answered as he adjusted his glasses._

_“When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide – I thought, ‘What the hell?’ Maybe he’d be useful to you, like a gerbil – I never thought you’d pick him.”_

Steve pursed his lips.

_‘Up,’ Peggy ordered as they slowed. ‘Jumping jacks.’ Phillips detailed, “You stick a needle in that kid’s arm, it’s gonna go right through him.” ‘Come on, girls,’ Peggy called. “Look at that,” he uttered as he stared, Steve’s arms limp as he threw them through the air while he panted. “He’s making me cry.”_

Tony snickered before half-heartedly apologizing.

_“I am looking for qualities beyond the physical,” Erskine insisted._

_“Do you know how long it took to set up this project?” ‘Yeah, I know.’ “All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator What’s-his-name’s committees?”_

_“Brandt – yes, I know. I am well aware of your efforts.”_

_“Then throw me a bone,” he implored. “Hodge passed every test we gave him. He’s big, he’s fast, he obeys orders – he’s a soldier.”_

_“He is a bully.”_

_“You don’t win wars with niceness, Doctor,” he countered, glancing behind him before moving around. “You win wars-” he began, lifting a grenade from one of the boxes of supplies stacked in the back of the truck and removing the pin, “-with guts.” He flicked the release from the top and lobbed it towards the men, screaming, “Grenade!”_

Bruce jerked as Clint, Loki, Natasha, and Tony jolted forward at the situation.

_The group whipped their heads to the object bouncing along the ground and ran from the scene with shouted, ‘Move, move, move!’ to find cover. Steve rushed headlong and threw himself on top of it as Peggy dashed forward as well, yelling, “Get away!” as he curled into the fetal position around it. “Get back!”_

_Hodge peered over the shelter he had found as Steve lay tense with his eyes squeezed shut, the minute passing before he uncurled in disbelief and looked around. “It was a dummy grenade,” an officer informed. “All clear, back in formation.”_

“What was it supposed to do?” Thor asked.

“Blow up,” Tony said to the blond’s shock.

_Phillips sighed as Peggy stared at him, Steve asking as he breathed heavily, “Is this a test?”_

_Phillips turned to Erskine, who shrugged self-assuredly, then abandoned his opposition with a feeble, “He’s still skinny,” before striding away. Erskine smiled._

“Well, there you have it,” Tony professed, “proved yourself to another one.”

Disregarding the coincidences that led to Erskine recognizing his drive, Steve’s benevolence and perseverance are traits so powerful within him that they push back against anyone who disbelieves.

_Steve sat on his assigned bed with shut case beyond the footboard, books laid on top and in his hands as he read. A knock sounded to him turning, the door to the room opened with Erskine stepping in._

_“May I?”_

_“Yeah,” he responded._

_“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked._

_“I got the jitters, I guess.”_

_He laughed as he set a couple of glasses by the books, saying, “Me too.”_

_As he folded the bedding from the adjacent bed and Steve put his book aside, the blond began, “Can I ask you a question?”_

_“Just one?” Erskine replied as he sat with bottle in hand._

_“Why me?”_

_“…I suppose that is the only question that matters.”_

The occupants of the room gazed rapt in intrigue while Steve’s smile lingered bittersweet.

_They sat in silence for a minute before he leant the bottle back and displayed the label. “This is from Augsburg – my city. So many people forget that the first country the Nazis invaded was their own._

_“You know, after the last war, my people struggled- They felt weak, they felt small – and then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags, and the…” He gestured in continuation before adjusting his glasses. “And he- he hears of me, my work, and he finds me and he says, ‘You.’ He says, ‘You will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” He placed the bottle on the floor._

Pairs of eyebrows rose.

_“So, he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division – a brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.” He corrects his lenses again. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle, and he is ambitious._

_**“He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth.”** Schmidt walked with posture firm and lips pursed before the Nazi flag, visor shadowing his brow, before researching ancient legends on papyrus manuscripts._

_“Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers,” Erskine described, “but for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real._

_**“He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the earth,”** carvings encircled with Norse runes were before his gaze, **“left here by the gods – waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula, and what it can do, he cannot resist.”** Schmidt moved around Erskine, demanding, gesturing to himself, as the doctor shook his head. Continued refusing when Schmidt held a gun pointed from his hip. **“Schmidt must become that superior man.”** He lay in a chair and injected a serum into his arm, clenching his fist and bending it towards himself as he breathed._

_“Did it make him stronger?” Steve questioned._

_“Yeah,” he responded with an open-mouthed smirk, **“but, there were other effects.”** Agonizing fire spread as Schmidt trembled and screamed, thrashing._

Bruce winced.

_“The serum was not ready, but more important, the man._

_“The serum amplifies everything that is inside, so good, becomes great – bad, becomes worse.”_

Bruce recoiled.

“Hey,” Tony called with a nudge of the scientist, “that was totally different.”

Natasha nodded and defended, “You were working with gamma radiation – you didn’t have Erskine’s serum as a base to work from.”

He hummed in nonverbal agreement, but lifted his feet onto the edge of the couch cushion to draw his knees to his chest to Tony’s frown.

_He stared at him before pronouncing, “This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, may lose respect for that power. But a weak man, knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”_

_“Thanks, I think,” he said with furrowed brow before smirking._

_Erskine gestured beckoningly to the glasses as he picked up the bottle, Steve separating the two and holding them between them. “Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing,” he started as he poured the alcohol. “That you will stay who you are-” he took one glass to cradle in his hand, then pointed at Steve’s heart, “-not a perfect soldier, but a good man.”_

Thor struck his shoulder in camaraderie with a smile, but at the thought of the Captain’s model of a 'good' man the others reflected on their own persons falling short of that adjective.

_Steve smiled before inhaling and toasting, “To the little guys.”_

_He laughed before they raised their drinks to their lips, then suddenly Erskine faltered and said, “No no- Wait, wait – what I am doing?” He removed the glass from Steve’s hand. “You have procedure tomorrow, no fluids.”_

_“Oh, alright, we’ll drink it after,” he agreed as Erskine poured the alcohol into one glass._

_“No, I don’t have procedure tomorrow,” he countered, gesticulating to himself. “Drink it after? I drink it now.” Steve smiled._

“Nice,” Clint expressed in amusement.

_The needle sat as the record spun, the player emitting Richard Wagner’s composition of Die Walküre** as Zola entered the space filled with his scientific instruments. He slowed with furrowed brow and eyes casting uncertainly around before a gloved hand switched off the lights. The darkened figure standing behind the desk spoke, Schmidt asking, “Is there something in particular you need?”_

_Zola lowered his gaze before looking at the scarlet and crimson palate to the right of a jacketed painter nearby, brush posed above the canvas. “I, uh, I understand you found him,” he stated, newspaper telling of the ‘Hydra-Abteilung’(*3)._

_“See for yourself,” he responded, gesturing to the desk’s surface. Zola stepped warily closer and shifted the black and white photographs laid over top each other, the subject within the white borders Erskine._

Steve’s shoulders tensed at the advert of Schmidt’s machinations.

_He lifted one for closer inspection as Schmidt stated, “You disapprove.”_

_“I just don’t see why you need concern yourself – I can’t imagine he’ll succeed-” His entertained smile fell at the other’s inhalation, and he added awkwardly, “…again.”_

Natasha rolled her eyes at the man’s flustered following.

_“His serum is the Allies’ only defense against this power we now possess – if we take it away from them, then our victory is assured.”_

_He remained quiet before deciding on agreement and suggesting, “Shall I give the order?”_

_“It has been given.”_

_“Good,” he answered, turning and moving to exit._

_“Dr. Zola!” He stopped and looked back, Schmidt flicking on the bright spotlights. “What do you think?”_

_He stared at him before walking to examine the painting while composing himself, concluding, “A masterpiece.”_

“Exaggerated shadows teasing the villain’s appearance, come on,” Tony whined. “We’ll see why he’s named Red Skull eventually, right?”

“It sounds self-explanatory,” Bruce contributed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Before the MDI for administering asthma medication in 1955, there was the electric nebulizer which used the power of an electrical compressor created in the ‘30s. Since this was an expensive development though, people continued to utilize the simple and cheaper hand-driven nebulizer (though the primitive device was fragile and unreliable). Adrenaline Chloride/Epinephrine was used at the time as a bronchial muscle relaxant so to reverse constriction.
> 
> (**) _Die Walküre_ is a three act opera, second of the four from the German cycle _Der Ring des Nibelungen_ , ‘The Ring of the Nibelung’, by Richard Wagner. ‘The Valkyrie’ is based on Norse Mythology, drawing from the story of the Valkyries who are the female figures that decide which soldiers who have died are ferried to Valhalla.
> 
> (*3) _‘Hydra-Abteilung’_ is German for ‘HYDRA-Section’, the division paralleling the ‘Storm-Section’ of advanced forces that Hilter enabled within the Nazis of WWII.


	4. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group is shown incalculable change in the Captain’s life as HYDRA makes its first move.

_“I know this neighbourhood,” Steve voiced as buildings were passed, men striding alongside women over the sidewalks as children ran across them, he and Peggy driven over the road. “I got beat up in that alley,” he continued with a point, then nodded and added, “and that parking lot.” He lowered his gaze. “And behind that diner.”_

“Most people note things like houses, restaurants, shops…” Natasha remarked, distancing herself from the experiences that proved as milestones in Steve’s life before the serum.

_“Did you have something against running away?” she questioned curiously._

_He opened his mouth and shook his head, but began again, declaring, “You start running, they’ll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back – can’t say no forever, right?”_

The truth of that reasoning resonated in the occupants of the room, the thought underlining the rebellious actions of each. From validating trick shots from the seemingly antiquated bow and arrow to persevering in innovation for individual incentive despite father-figures’ mandates, or protecting potent genetic material from ambitious military personnel. To proving loyal despite manipulations previously wielded against any directed towards, to overturning experience to stand against unjust findings, or obstinately fighting stereotypes in favour of exploring a unique character. The Captain’s words impressed the six on his sides.

_“I know a little of what that’s like,” she agreed, “to have every door shut in your face.”_

The contest of gender equality was ongoing currently, nevermind the opposition she would have faced mid-twentieth century.

_He fleetingly cast his gaze over her before inhaling and wondering, “I guess I just don’t know why you’d want to join the army if you were a beautiful dame.”_

Tony choked on a laugh as Steve flushed.

_His eyes were out the window before he turned back and stuttered to improve his wording, “Or a beau- A woman. An agent – not a dame.” At her furrowed brow and probing stare he attempted to backtrack further, “You are beautiful but-” He gestured helplessly-_

“Great recovery,” Clint snickered.

_-and capitulated to her judgement._

_“You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?” she asked rhetorically._

_“I think this is the longest conversation I’ve had with one,” he admitted with a self-depreciating smile-_

“Should give you lessons,” Tony muttered.

“I’m fine without them,” Steve countered, imagining the ordeal of the playboy’s instruction. 

“Eloquence would be an aid to your position of command,” Loki enticed.

The two smirked as the Captain stated warily, “I’m not sure I like you two teaming up.”

_-elaborating, “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”_

_“You must have danced.”_

_“Well, asking a woman to dance always seemed so terrifying, and in the past few years, just didn’t seem to matter that much – figured I’d wait.”_

_“For what?”_

_He tilted his head briefly in consideration, eyes forward, before definitively nodding and answering, “The right partner.”_

_She smiled softly._

“Ugh, romantic.” Tony rolled his eyes. The fact was, though, that the period of history they were able to view was intimately paralleled with the behaviour of that of modern society. The decades passed tended to be dramatized and romanticized, reflecting back like looking upon another species, one with different patterns of behaviour. But this disc was displaying how the people were the same, how most men’s outlook on women was the same. Steve was an exception in his idealistic romantic notions then just as he was now.

_The car pulled up to an antique store and parallel parked by the curb, ‘BROOKLYN ANTIQUES’ emblazoned on the storefront. Steve stepped from the vehicle to Peggy’s following, and then she turned to walk towards the doors with an instructive, ‘This way.’_

_Men loitering by other cars noted them inconspicuously, Steve asking, “What are we doing here?”_

“Going in in uniform isn’t obvious at all,” Clint drawled sarcastically.

“Stealth bases and operations have seriously improved,” Natasha added.

_“Follow me,” she merely said. Above the shop’s displays there were extolled, ‘ANTIQUES: Bought and Sold; We Buy Antiques; WATCHES & CLOCKS; COLLECTABLES: Specialists in Rare Time Pieces.’_

_A bell rang as she pushed through the entrance, the dark interior lit only by scattered lamps and the daylight streaming in as she halted and Steve carefully shut the door to another ring. An elderly woman walked into the space from the curtained-off back area, greeting,_

_“Wonderful weather this morning, isn’t it?”_

_“Yes,” Peggy agreed, mentioning, “but I always carry an umbrella.”_

_The woman turned from them to stand behind the counter, pressing the small white button secured underneath the surface with her pinky finger, an automatic rifle attached within easy reach as well._

“It’s like watching a spy movie,” Bruce remarked.

_Peggy stepped through the curtains to bypass the wall to her left, upon which hung empty, ornate frames, and the desk in front of her, Steve trailing after before he stood at her side with cabinet supporting piles of aged books behind. Shelves laden with neatly packed books covered the wall in front of them, and they faced it for a few seconds before the bookcases swung forward like a pair of double doors and revealed a hidden grey corridor._

“A bad one,” Tony appended.

_Steve looked from side to side in wonder as Peggy walked forward, stepping to her side as the doors shut behind them and they moved past a desk where on the wall a couple of signs declared, ‘SSN CONTROLLED AREA: ONLY AUTHORIZED PERSONS TO PROCEED PAST THIS POINT’. MP and others were stationed within the pristine halls before a pair of doors was opened before them and Steve stood at the rail overlooking the scientists and machinery he was to wade into. The ambient conversation ceased as each turned to gaze up at him for a moment, and he faced Peggy who met his eyes with her own serious-minded look._

_She turned with a deep inhalation and began to lead him down the stairs to the lower level, movement continuing as Erskine met him by the foot of an open pod with a calm ‘Good morning,’ shaking his hand. A bright flash emit from the camera a soldier held as he took a picture before Erskine bid, “Please, not now.”_

_Peggy brushed aside the curls of her bangs and then clasped her hands in front of her, Steve staring along the length of the device worked around a bed-like slab with walls and lid leant open._

Bruce and Tony examined the mechanics of the case and room in desperate want of understanding, the engineer ordering, “J, capture and enhance images of that thing. I want a 3-D hologram to work with.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but my recordings appear blurred,” the AI replied.

‘What?’ Loki questioned as Tony cursed, crossing his arms. “Forgot about that.”

“The first letter said we wouldn’t be able to record anything,” Natasha explained.

“But that was Asgardian stuff,” Tony countered. “This isn’t that sensitive – figured Frigga would’ve dropped the protections.”

Loki hummed in thought as to the information he was lacking, but decided it was of secondary concern as he was the subject of the first disc and therefore privy to the events of importance (those of the past) anyway. He tilted his head at the constructions on the screen before concluding, “I can’t create an image of its workings either.”

“That was a possibility?” Steve asked.

“Well, there was the thought that I could maneuver around the defences – but she has spent more time on them than I and all I know was taught from her hand. I would be able to discern the exact components of the whole arrangement if I had been the one to assemble the disc though.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Collecting the perspectives of the past through one of the individuals involved, reaching through time to accumulate the events, would give access to the mentalities of all those connected.”

“So, hypothetically, you could redo this disc and map out the blueprints and serum that enhanced Steve?” Bruce interrogated.

“Well, I could,” Loki started, “but the degree of magic we’re talking about isn’t exactly accessible from my core at the moment. Also, Frigga hindered this for a reason – it’s likely the avenue she accessed through Steven is defended in foresight of this discussion.”

“Ugh, what the hell,” Tony swore. “Okay, everyone just pay attention and I’ll snatch you up later to see what we get.”

_“Are you ready?” the scientist asked._

_He nodded unsteadily._

_“Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat,” he instructed. Steve raised his hands glancingly over the articles in question as he looked over his shoulder at Peggy, then obeyed while she turned her head behind with an amused quirk to her lips. He handed the items to a nurse that approached him._

A nervous energy permeated the atmosphere of the room at the expectancy of the augmentation.

_In the observation room above, Phillips welcomed, “Senator Brandt, glad you could make it,” clasping his hand in a firm shake._

_“Why exactly am I in Brooklyn?” he inquired._

_“We needed access to the city’s power grid, ‘course if you’d have given me the generators I requisitioned…”_

_“A lot of people are asking for funds, Colonel,” he defended. “Oh, this is Clem, uh…” he started as he gestured to the younger man wearing glasses that had turned towards their conversation._

Steve clenched his hands into fists to the assassins and Loki’s note.

_“Fred Clemson, State Department,” he met as he reached out a hand, Phillips accepting it. “If this project of yours comes through, we’d like to see it used for something other than headlines.”_

_“Jesus,” Brandt swore as he gazed through the glass. “Somebody get that kid a sandwich.”_

Agreement reverberated in the thoughts of Steve’s teammates, Bruce wondering at the change in metabolic consumption and the difference in food intake but electing to question the Captain over their next meal instead of disturbing the charged environment.

_Steve stepped up to the side of the pod before turning to sit on the edge of the flat surface, vertebrae and shoulder blades pressing at the skin of his back as he used his arms to shift his body and lay down. He adjusted his head and wriggled for a moment before Erskine moved to his side and asked, ‘Comfortable?’_

_His sternum and ribs strained as he breathed, looking down at the length his small body left unoccupied and smirking before replying, “It’s a little big.” Erskine chuckled. “You save me any of that schnapps?”_

_He averted his eyes and admitted, “Not as much as I should have – sorry. Next time.” Then he called out, “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”_

Tony pursed his lips.

_“Levels at one hundred percent,” Howard responded as he circled to Steve’s side as Erskine adjusted his glasses with a ‘Good,’ walking away. “We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready… As we’ll ever be.” Steve’s expression morphed into one of anxiety before he turned away and breathed, now with a harness strapped over his midriff._

It was easy for Tony to be angry with Howard on Steve’s behalf, the man not allaying any of the younger’s fears. It was righteous indignation, not bitterness at his presence by the blond’s side signifying an influence to his view that would impair Tony’s childhood.

_“Agent Carter?” Erskine asked as he gestured upwards, “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in the booth?”_

_“Oh, yes – of course, sorry,” she said with a bashful smile as she turned, the scientist repeating, ‘Good.’ Steve watched as she stepped away, Peggy pausing to send him an encouraging look before continuing. He turned his gaze to the ceiling._

“Is romance a major genre in this?” Tony derided, the first instance of ridicule available latched onto.

_Erskine flicked the head of the microphone he held, a thud sounding twice before feedback screeched over the PA system to wincing above. “Do you hear me? Is this on? Ladies and gentlemen, today, we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace.”_

_Mechanical arms lowered with thick plates attached to wiring and were placed over Steve’s chest, a pair of scientists drawing a preservation chamber forward behind as Erskine continued, “We begin with a series of microinjections into the- subject’s major muscle groups.” Seven vials with thick blue liquid were revealed as the vessel was opened, six carefully removed. Peggy was offered a seat above before Clemson took the chair behind her. “The serum-infusion will cause immediate cellular change, and then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays.” Nurses placed three vials of the serum on each side of the pod Steve was lying in-_

Bruce leaned back and raised a hand to his chin as Tony pulled a glass panel from underneath the coffee table and began logging the directives through the interactive interface.

_-before the top of his left arm was swabbed and a thin needle pressed into his shoulder briefly._

_Erskine stood at his side as he scrunched his face, the syringe removed and a wad of cotton forced down before taken away. “That wasn’t so bad,” Steve commented._

_“That was Penicillin,” Erskine stated to Steve’s fretful gaze, the doctor helplessly shrugging as he raised his eyebrows. He turned and announced, counting down, “Serum infusion beginning in five…” Phillips and Peggy inhaled deeply from the observation deck. “Four…” Additional metal plates with sharp pricks of needles swung to press into Steve’s upper arms. “Three…” He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as he said, “Two,” and then, “…one.”_

_A lever was shifted up, the blue liquid of the serum draining out of the vials and through the tubing. Steve’s muscles pulsed as they were injected, his teeth gritting as he grunted and squeezed his eyes shut, furrowing his brow before his eyes flashed open abruptly. “Now, Mr. Stark,” Erskine instructed._

_Howard pulled down a level topped in red, the pod Steve was laying in shifting with a whir from horizontal to vertical. Bright lights shone within before being obscured as the panelling of the sides swung around, the top piece lowering and the device encasing Steve. Peggy swallowed nervously as heavy tubing was lifted and locked onto the top of the pod, Erskine stepping forward to knock on the exterior._

_“Steven? Can you hear me?” he asked as he peeked through the glass panel down at Steve._

_“It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” he retorted-_

Thor chuckled to lessen some of the agitation coiled in his muscles.

_-Erskine nodding to the scientist behind before turning away with a smirk._

_“We will proceed.”_

_Howard moved to another section of the extensive control panelling, twisting a dial from zero to the halfway point of four-hundred._

_Senator Brandt glanced to Phillips as the experiment proceeded, Phillips pursing his lips in apprehension._

_Howard unfolded a pair of tinted glasses and then grasped a wheel, wrenching it clockwise to increase the Vita-ray output. “That’s ten percent,” he announced as a bright light emanated from inside the pod, Erskine and the nurses flanking it raising a hand to shield their eyes. “Twenty percent... Thirty.” The shine concentrated further. “That’s forty percent.”_

_“Vital signs are normal,” the man monitoring one of the screens reported._

_“That’s fifty percent. Sixty… Seventy-”_

_A yell suddenly erupted from within the apparatus, building before cutting off, Peggy darting from her seat as Clemson leaned forward with furrowed brow._

‘Woah, what?’ Tony said as Thor asked, ‘What’s happening?’, Clint uttering an apt ‘shit’.

_Steve shouted again as Erskine rushed forward, calling, ‘Steven! Steven!’_

_“Shut it down!” Peggy ordered as she leaned over the rail above._

_“Steven!” he screamed, banging on the pod as she repeated, ‘Shut it down!’_

_“Kill the reactor, Mr. Stark!” Erskine commanded with a point as he turned to run to him. “Turn it off- Kill it! Kill the reactor!” Howard stumbled to another set of controls before another voice interjected._

_“No!” Erskine whipped around to the pod the same as others’ stares. “Don’t!” Steve cried rapidly upon hearing the commotion over his screams. “I can do this!”_

Loki hit Thor’s shoulder and demanded, “Hit him for me.” Thor grasped the Captain around the shoulders as an alternative and pulled him into an embrace.

“You should not be so willing for injury to come to you,” the god asserted.

“I’m not – I just-” Steve objected, extracting himself from the perceived unwarranted hold.

“You are,” Natasha supported.

“I can take it.”

“That self-sacrificing attitude’s going to get you killed,” Loki declared.

_Erskine hesitated for a second before quickly turning back to Howard, the man striding back to the wheel to continue increasing the Vita-rays. Peggy’s breathing remained frantic as Howard pronounced, “Eighty.” Phillips winced as the glare of the light caused most to avert their eyes. “Ninety.” The hand of the dial was forced to the end of the scarlet area. “That’s one hundred percent.”_

_The panels emit faint wisps of steam as the electricity of the machine hummed, sparks shooting from the controls to Howard’s flinching as all of the people in the space stared at the blinding glow at the top of the case. There were flashes of ignition as circuits shorted in hasty succession of one another, and then the room fell into darkness as the mechanism powered down._

_Peggy and Erskine stared as those above stood in anticipation, Howard removing the glasses shielding his eyes as he gaped before Erskine summoned brusquely, “Mr. Stark?” The panelling of the pod was opened._

_Steve stood collapsed against the padding of the back, chest heaving as he panted. The nape of his neck now supported by the length of the arrangement, he stood over a foot taller, shoulders broader with wide biceps and triceps leading to his arms, and pectorals, abdomen, and obliques sculpting his torso before his long, powerful legs stretched down._

_‘Steven, Steven,’ Erskine hushed as he grabbed one of his arms and helped him down, the blond’s eyes closed as he panted. Excited mutterings ensued above at the sight, the men gathered standing and exiting to Phillips’ huffing and disbelieving, “The son of a bitch did it.” Clemson smirked before rising as well, a slim silver case slipping from his pocket onto his chair._

Eyes narrowed in suspicion.

_Steve gasped as he was steadied, an arm around Erskine and Howard’s shoulders as he was supported with their hands on his back and core, another scientist aiding and nurses close._

_“I did it,” Steve managed, sweat glistening at the base of his neck._

_“Yeah, yeah,” Erskine agreed, “I think we did.”_

_“You actually did it,” Howard uttered, eyes widened._

_Peggy pushed through the throng gathered around him to dart her eyes over him, breathing deeply as she looked up at him to question, “How do you feel?”_

_He stared disoriented at his surroundings as he gathered himself to stand of his own volition, gasping, “Taller.”_

_‘Oh,’ she muttered, one of her hands drawn up to the musculature of his chest before she immediately lowered it with an ‘um,’ and grasped one of the shirts a nurse held in a pile at her side. “You look taller,” she recovered, unfolding the clothing and holding it out for him._

Clint and Tony laughed.

_“How d’you like Brooklyn now, Senator?” Phillips quipped as he passed him._

_“I can think of some folks in Berlin who are about to get very nervous,” he retorted. Clemson loitered at the fringe as the senator said, ‘Congratulations, Doctor,’ turning to look back up towards the empty observation deck. ‘Thank you, sir,’ Erskine responded as he shook his hand in the crowd, before his eye was caught by Clemson. The man reached into his pocket to flip open a lighter to the doctor’s disconcerted stare, and then upon the press of his thumb the device left above exploded._

“He’s one of HYDRA’s, isn’t he?” Bruce queried rhetorically.

_Flames shot through the space as glass rained down, the men and women below ducking. Phillips rose behind Erskine, who was already facing Clemson as he lifted a gun and grasped the last vial of the serum. “Stop him!” Erskine shouted, and then two rounds were fired into his chest and he fell forward._

Postures straightened in shock in contrast to Steve’s slumped shoulders.

_A woman screamed at the shots as the group tried to move to cover, Steve clambering to his side in panic as Clemson ran up the stairs. He shot the MP officer in his path as Peggy fired a shot that drilled into his arm before he managed to escape from the room. Steve turned Erskine onto his back to the doctor’s groan, Clemson dashing through the halls to shoot another armed man before slamming the red button on the desk by the exit. Peggy ran up the stairs in pursuit as Steve furrowed his brow in denial of Erskine’s fatal injuries, the doctor merely lifting a hand as the blond struggled internally. He pointed at Steve’s heart in reminder of his character, before his head fell to the side as he died._

_Steve raised his head slowly as he clenched his jaw, sharp eyes fixed on the path Clemson had run._

_Above, Clemson tore through the curtains that blocked the back room and entrance from view, facing the rifle the older woman held in hand and shooting her before she could defend herself. The automatic weapon fired as her finger pulled the trigger, her body collapsing. He stowed the serum inside his jacket as he grabbed her gun, slipping out the front door, bellowing, “Move it! Move it!” He crashed past a man on the sidewalk before one in front of him yelled, ‘Get down!’ waving him past._

_Two others fired shots at them from a storefront on the other side of the antique shop, Clemson’s ally felled as he ducked into a car behind him. The two continued to attack as the vehicle pulled away, Clemson firing the rifle as he was driven by, the rounds shattering the windows of the car in front of them before hitting them. Peggy rushed out as they drove down the street, Clemson clutching his arm in pain as she aimed with her handgun._

_Clemson turned and detonated one of the cars parked on the curb, the explosion pulling her attention until she discerned the lack of current threat and turned back. She stood firm, aimed, and fired._

_Her shot pierced through the rear window and went through the driver’s head, his skull hitting the windshield as his body was flung forward and the vehicle now manned by a corpse._

Clint and Natasha raised eyebrows at the marksmanship.

_The car swerved to crash into the side of a taxi, the driver stepping out as Clemson did and circling to ask the limp driver, ‘What are you doing? Buddy, are you all right? Hey, this guy’s been shot!’ as Clemson moved into the cab and drove back with tires squealing._

_Peggy remained standing in the middle of the road with handgun raised as Clemson drove towards her, firing two rounds that pierced the windshield on either side of his head as he flinched. The cab approached to her resolute position, her next shot aimed and fired at close range just as Steve burst from the store and tackled her away from the impact of the vehicle, altering the bullet’s trajectory._

_The two landed on the surface of the street to the side of the cab’s force, Peggy shrieking, “I had him!” as they climbed to their feet._

_“Sorry!” he apologized as he clambered in the direction of the car, rising up to run haltingly because of the length of his strides and lack of lung constriction before straightening and dashing faster in pursuit._

_At the sight of the cab screeching through a left turn, Steve banked left through an alley, watching the car’s progress through the streets. Crossing a road, he moved to turn right but had accrued too much speed and sailed through the window of the storefront display opposite him._

Loki rather thought the adaptation to his lengthened limbs and increased mass and power great compared to the resultant awkwardness of a new body, of which he had firsthand knowledge.

_“I’m sorry!” he stuttered as he leaped through the wreckage back onto the road, the front of Audrey’s BRIDALWEAR in ruins to a man’s uttered, ‘Unbelievable!’_

_He darted through the streets in chase, regaining momentum down another alleyway before a locked gate blocked the end in the distance. He lengthened his strides before throwing himself up and forward in a jump that cleared the height of the obstruction as he lunged over. He landed with a grunt onto his bare feet to the wail of tires as he crossed the street before vehicles’ honking, exclaiming, ‘Woahwoahwoah woah, woah woah,’ as he held his hands out to them and ran across._

_Clemson noticed his form in the rear view mirror in befuddlement, turning to look back over his shoulder before swerving through the other vehicles on the road. Steve surged to spring onto the hood and then roof of a car in front of him, then bounded from one vehicle to the next as he followed the cab. Landing on the open box of a truck, he flung himself sideways onto the roof of the taxi. Clemson stared at the roof of the interior at the thud, then weaved the vehicle to loosen Steve’s extended hold of the car. He banked sharply left and through an alley to Steve’s scrabbling before pulling out again and deciding to raise his gun and shoot through the ceiling._

_The rounds punctured the roof to Steve’s dodging and covering his face with an arm, his body toppling sideways to hang onto the passenger side before Clemson turned to shoot through the window. A heavy truck entered unnoticed before the car to Clemson’s frantic jerking of the steering wheel, the cab T-boned and flung to roll roof over axel as Steve released his hold and threw himself up. He landed in a roll behind a door that had been torn off, the taxi landing roughly right-side up before Clemson grunted and threw himself out of it as well._

_He pitched his eyes around as he crawled to his feet, raising his gun to fire a shot to Steve ducking before turning towards the group of bystanders that had screamed behind him. He swung back to impede Steve, firing two rounds that hit the face of the car door he had lifted as a shield, and then lurched towards the mother who was pulling her son to the side before him. “Move- Move!” he yelled as he wrenched the boy from her, the woman shrieking, ‘No! No, not my son! No!’ The child shouted, ‘Stop it!’ as she continued, ‘Don’t hurt him!’ as she was pulled back by her husband._

Loki barred his teeth and others snarled or cussed under their breath.

_Steve clutched at a stitch in his ribs as Clemson warned, “Get back!” the boy held about the waist as he aimed the gun. ‘Let me go!’ the boy yelled as he struggled, the woman screaming in the background, ‘Don’t hurt him – no!’_

_‘No!’ the boy fought again as the mother repeated, ‘No, my son!’ Clemson turned and ran a distance before whipping back to shoot at Steve, the blond ducking behind one of the large iron weights abandoned at the side of the pier before raising his eyes above cautiously. ‘No! Don’t hurt him!’ He darted forward as Clemson wrestled with the boy around the corner, Steve leaning his head around before Clemson pressed the muzzle of the gun against the boy’s temple._

_“Wait, don’t! Don’t,” Steve implored as he jumped into the open, raising his hands in supplication._

Eyes were narrowed at the vulnerable position.

_Clemson turned the gun on him and pulled the trigger, but a click echoed at the empty barrel. He groaned in annoyance and hauled the boy to the edge of the water, Steve pleading again, “No- Don’t!” as the child was thrown in._

_Clemson glanced back before beginning to run again, Steve turning from him to lean over the edge. “Go get him! I can swim!” the boy called, paddling to a lower vantage point as Steve raced away._

Shoulders loosened at the child’s distance from the crossfire.

_Clemson pushed a button on his lighter and a single man ship rose out of the formerly calm surface of the water ahead of him. Grey and cylindrical, curving to a point on either end with a smaller addition flanking its sides for direction and buoyancy, the clear-panelled covering of the cockpit lifted for his entrance. He grasped the controls and sealed himself within as Steve ran along the pier, the ship propelled forward before submerging completely._

_Steve leaped with arms spread before bringing his hands together to dive into the water, immediately swimming behind the submarine as it rumbled through the dim expanse of liquid. Clemson focused on steering as Steve swam up behind him, kicking his legs furiously to reach and grab the sharp protrusion on the top of the ship and swing his fist around through one of the windows. Clemson flinched before gasping in a lungful of air as water flooded the small compartment, Steve dragging the lid of the cockpit up before grabbing the back of Clemson’s jacket and pushing up from the submarine as he flailed in his hold._

_Clemson was bodily thrown from the water to land on the pier with an aborted yell, Steve climbing the ladder after as he gasped and turned at the blond’s approach to swipe at his midsection with a knife. Steve knocked him to the ground, the blade and serum from inside his jacket flung to the stone. The glass of the latter shattered and the blue serum seeped onto the ground. Clemson lay on his back with Steve above, wrenching him forward by his lapels._

_“Who the hell are you?” he interrogated._

_“The first of many,” he answered. “Cut off one head,” Clemson dislodged a fake incisor from its socket with his tongue and bit down on it, “two more, shall take its place.” Foam gathered in his mouth at the cyanide pill, and he choked out, “Hail HYDRA,” before convulsing and dying._

_Steve breathed heavily as gulls chattered overhead, pausing in the still moment to stare down in awe at his panting chest and powerful arms._

“We should… take a break – before Tony makes fun of me being a chorus girl,” Steve suggested, standing from the couch and exiting to his half of the floor.

“Right,” Tony stated slowly.


	5. Inexact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships are turbulent as company is present without new ties, events continuing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less bonding/emotional development than I intended, but I’ve an intensity planned for overnight and the next day so this movie needs to be finished.

“Can we drink now?” Tony questioned as he moved from the couch, Thor frowning at his back.

“We should talk to him and provide comfort,” the god insisted.

“I don’t do comfort.”

“Walking away seems more like an ‘I want to be alone’ sorta vibe,” Clint said.

“Well I’m going to update Peps,” Tony broadcast as he strode towards the elevator, hands in his pockets.

“I am staying here for if he needs me,” Thor announced. Tony flipped him off as the elevator doors closed.

“Let’s gloss over that,” Natasha interjected, though the blond’s glaring was due to the impression of a slight and not knowledge of what exactly the hand gesture conveyed. “I think Steve needs some space right now – he’ll seek us out when he needs us.”

“So we hang out here?” Clint asked.

“And do something for dinner,” Bruce remarked.

* * *

Tony strode through the administrative offices of the fifth floor to find Pepper leaning over the shoulder of one of the temps, technically a representative of the executive assistant to one of the Board members. He seemed to be indicating an area of development of which Pepper was supporting the basis of additional funds. The two came to an arrangement before Tony was near enough to intervene, and she straightened to spot him and greet, “Mr. Stark.”

The temp echoed the address, but he disregarded it in favour of bidding Pepper, “I believe we’ve some issues to discuss, Ms. Potts.” She smiled slightly and excused herself, following him back towards the elevator. He mentioned as they entered, “You should end your day earlier – I always find you with piles of admin things.”

“That’s more of a reason to stay late,” she responded before excusing, “I’m still reorienting myself with everything we missed.”

“We came back from Asgard like a week ago.”

“But we were gone for three. The next time you decide to kidnap me, warn me ahead of time.”

“Then it’s hardly a kidnapping, is it?” he retorted. “Have you even used any of your vacation days? You really should-”

“I just did – to travel to a Norse-god-dimension.”

“That hardly counts as a ‘vacation’,” he muttered. “More an all-expenses-paid month of stress.”

“Why did you pick me up, anyway?” she asked, curious as they exited onto their suite on the top floor. “Did something happen?”

“Do you think me so self-absorbed that something has to be wrong for me to pay some attention to you?” He pouted in mock wretchedness as he turned to her on the threshold of their bedroom, her laughter sounding while she rolled her eyes.

He carelessly stripped off his tee and shucked his pants as she removed her heels, then rumpled her shirt and skirt as he pulled her onto the bed. She tugged her hair free from its ponytail and then folded her arms on his chest under her chin to ask, “Chinese or Thai?”

“Definitely Thai,” he said with a smile.

“The usual?” Jarvis questioned.

“Yep,” he met as Pepper revisited, ‘Though add some spring rolls.’

* * *

Steve didn’t intend to completely isolate himself from his team, because he didn’t actually want to be alone. He did need some space to himself, though, now that the anxieties about the revelations of his life before the serum had passed, and what remained were the battles, and losses… He stood at the door that separated his half from the common, leaning his head back and listening to the faint sounds of the others, now having moved over to Thor’s side.

_Tony took pains to replace the bedframes so they couldn’t be broken accidentally, but he didn’t exactly have time to redo the insulation of the walls to turn ‘soundproof’ into soundproof for those with advanced hearing – though he would’ve if he’d thought about it._

The construction was done well enough that he had to strain to hear anything aside from normal speech, though, so he wasn’t going to bring it up. The ambient sounds of the living space adjacent and those above were comforting, easing him from the silence he couldn’t remember suffocating him in his imagination of the ice. He stepped further into the area and passed the kitchen, sitting on the edge of his bed.

There was a bookcase to his right, set to the side of the doorway to the adjoining bath, and his eyes roved over the titles on the spines just as they had each time he had been ensconced in his rooms on his own. He had picked up a few of the texts before, thick things filled with general facts. Tony had selected, or had had selected for him, history, technological, science, art, pop culture, religious, and law books to try to get him accustomed to at least the basest facts of the advances in the seventy years from which he had been absent. Even after spending so much time actively living with the team, he wasn’t sure whether he preferred trying to adjust with or without the company.

_Yeah, I was sort of cramming the information into my head when not trying to avoid the reality of it when in Brooklyn, but at least when I took breaks to distance myself I could go out and lose myself in the people, in the crowds. I could go my own pace. Here, I don’t feel so bad when Thor’s as lost as I am, but I’m always in contact with SHIELD and the team and the feel and images of what brought us together and dealing with Loki – who’s keeping us together – and if I don’t adjust to everything in the meantime maybe I never will. I’ll just coast through dealing with SHIELD’s messes and managing Tony and working the relationship with Asgard- …‘The man out of time,’ truly…_

He sighed and strode out of his half, continuing on into Thor’s to be greeted by Clint and Natasha slicing and sorting vegetables and crackers at the island. He raised an eyebrow and the god, seated facing the two, grinned at his entrance. Thor’s concern for Steve was worsened in the back of his mind because of his lessened knowledge of the events of his life, the only fact he really had to work with that of the Captain being frozen and suspended in time for a mortal lifetime before being woken again, so he hailed jovially, ‘Steve!’ when he sought the group out.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked as he sat on one of the unoccupied bar stools, facing the kitchen counters and Bruce’s back. The scientist opened a can of chickpeas alongside a bottle of oil and a jar of tahini, Loki having lifted himself to sit on the worktop out of the way.

“Improvising some hummus,” he answered, Natasha adding,

“It’s an appetizer, a dip usually for pitas but vegetables work with it. We ordered Greek for dinner.”

“Question: would you have wanted beef, chicken, lamb, or pork for souvlaki?” Clint questioned as he ate a cracker from the display he was ‘arranging’.

“Uh… Beef?” Steve said uncertainly to Clint rolling his eyes, Natasha and Loki smirking smugly.

“Damn, guessed chicken,” he muttered, Thor remarking, ‘I thought pork.’

“We ordered beef for you,” Bruce interjected. “We ended up with a variety, though, so figured we could always trade if anyone didn’t like anything.”

“Jarvis relayed a delivery time of twenty minutes-” Loki commented, a pointed glance sent towards the ingredients the brunet was mashing in a bowl, “-you’ve five minutes to finish that.”

“It’s almost done, and it’s not like everyone’s going to disappear with their food.”

“No, but the definition of an appetizer is to be a starter, consumed before the main meal-”

Steve smiled slightly at the exchange, attempting to separate from the adrift and forlorn emotions curling in his chest at not only the commonplace exotic food but the accessibility to food in general that he had never experienced in the time period before waking.

* * *

“Tony,” Pepper chastised as the elevator doors opened and she stepped through with a take-out bag, “since when have you added shrimp?”

“I dunno – wanted to try something new and it was delicious,” he responded, reclined on the bed with a laptop on his bare abdomen and black pants creased where his ankles were crossed.

“You already add peanut sauce to a dish with a base of cashew nuts, but beef and shrimp?”

“Beef and shrimp are BFFs – surf and turf, come on,” he objected.

She sighed and crawled onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in soft shorts and shirt halfway buttoned to ask with a nod to the glow of his arc reactor, “How does that not glare off the screen?”

“Just have to up the brightness,” he shrugged, shifting further upright and placing the computer lower on the mattress.

She noted the contents of the display with a raised eyebrow as she unpacked their food, leading, “And you’re looking up Peggy Carter’s nursing home because…”

“Because Cap shouldn’t be avoiding her when she’s the only one alive and they can reconnect and chat and shit.”

“She’s ninety years old, Tony,” she defended. “Maybe he thinks it would be too hard for him if she didn’t remember.”

“No guts no glory.”

* * *

Tony and Pepper took the elevator to the 91st once they had eaten, Tony interrupting the light conversation over the group’s Mediterranean meal when he rushed into the kitchen. “Shift into the living room, guys – we’re finishing this tonight.”

“Hi,” Pepper waved, pretending her partner hadn’t spoken and there weren’t expressions of disbelief turned to him. “Did you order a mass amount of souvlaki or did someone get creative?”

Clint replied, ‘Souvlaki all the way,’ as Bruce mentioned, “I contemplated the gyro.”

“Innovative points should be awarded for making hummus,” Loki pointed out, folded on top of the counter and wrapping two skewers’ worth of meat into a pita to smother in the spread.

“Bruce is able to invent anything conceived!” Thor applauded as Tony dipped a carrot in the mixture.

“We just ate Thai!” she scolded him.

“I support multiculturalism,” he quipped before moaning at the taste of the hummus. “-and Bruce making things. You’re confined to the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled at Bruce’s look, his face flushed at the compliment yet his brows furrowed in offense at being jokingly kept for his cooking. The blond, Loki, and Thor were still in the midst of eating, but the others continued to pick at the leftover amount of food that had been ordered, so Steve agreed, “Okay, let’s move.”

The benefits of a distraction begged for in preoccupation with the foodstuffs couldn’t be ignored.

The eight settled into the couch, the glass coffee table pulled into the corner where Steve and Thor sat for easy access to the food laid atop. Bruce took the seat beside the Captain, Pepper lying with her feet tucked under his cushion and against Tony who was leant on the arm. Natasha sat beside Thor, and Clint was between her and Loki; the dark god was on the same end as before though now controlled access to the dips and pitas he had gathered.

“Roll it, J,” Tony commanded.

_A couple of rows of HYDRA troops marched through a rounded hall lit with fluorescents while in the adjacent hall an accented male voice warned, ‘The Führer is not accustomed to being ignored, Herr Schmidt.’_

_Another added, “He funds your research because you promised him weapons.”_

_“You serve- at his pleasure. He gave you this facility as a reward for your injuries.”_

‘Injuries?’ Bruce mouthed to Tony, who shrugged a shoulder.

_Schmidt strode with three German officers behind, countering dismissively, “Reward? Call it what it is – exile.” One slowed in front of the HYDRA logo emblazoned in crimson on a black banner hung on the wall as he continued, “I no longer reflect his image of Aryan perfection.” The same man turned to an agent standing guard by the wall, observing him from head to toe before his armed head looked down to him and he moved on._

_“You think this is about appearances? Your HYDRA division has failed to deliver so much as a rifle in over a year,” the uncapped male disputed. “And, we had learned through local intelligence, you mounted a full-scale incursion into Norway.”_

_“The Führer feels – how does he put it? – that the Red Skull has been indulged long enough.”_

_Schmidt paused in his walk to face the elder whose chin was raised in confidence, then moved his stare to the one beside who had nodded, and then back again._

“At least he’ll kill some enemies for you,” Loki stated to Steve’s frown.

_He exhaled and began, “Gentlemen, you have come to see the results of our work, hm?” The three met his gaze with their own superior countenances. “Let me show you.”_

“Yep,” Tony confirmed at Schmidt’s promising lead.

_He pushed open a pair of double doors to march into a space of cylindrical containers and workers at tables, declaring, “Hitler speaks of a thousand-year Reich but he cannot feed his armies for a month-” The doors are shut behind, and he waved in gesture of the Germans fighting. “-his troops spill their blood across every field in Europe,” he jerks a sheet from its covering of a long-barreled weapon and drops it to the floor, “but still he is no closer to achieving his goals.”_

_“And I suppose you still aim to win this war through magic?” one retorted, smiling as he raised his palms in mockery._

_“Science,” he corrected in condescension by a control board, resuming, “but I understand your confusion.” Zola looked on in apprehension as Schmidt pressed buttons and turned dials to manipulate the power of the armament. “Great power has always baffled primitive men.”_

‘Burn,’ Tony hissed as Thor contributed thoughtfully, “It can be seen as favourable that your opponents were at odds, though, yes?”

“Our side didn’t exactly have all their shit together,” Clint reasoned.

_“HYDRA is assembling an arsenal to destroy my enemies in one stroke, wherever they are, regardless of how many forces they possess-” He snapped his fingers.“-all in a matter of hours.”_

_“Your enemies?”_

_“My weapons contain enough destructive power to decimate every hostile capital on Earth,” he announced, still occupied with preparing the weapon as the young man in the background stepped over to the table displaying pinned targets on the world. “Quite simply, gentlemen,” Schmidt swiftly raised two fingers to point at each soldier, counting the three-_

“That’s a bit obvious,” Pepper discerned.

_-before turning back to recalibrate the machine, “I have harnessed the power of the gods.”_

_The two cleared their throats and coughed in discomfiture, the elder enunciating, “Thank you, Schmidt.”_

_“For what?”_

_“For making it clear how obviously mad you are.”_

_The soldier leaning over the table traced the cities marked before finding the capital of Germany. “Berlin is on this map!” he shouted, darting to the two others._

_“So it is,” he responded without care, the gun shining along the side as its mechanics whirred, the nozzle swiveling to aim at the three men._

_“You will be punished for your insolence!” he proclaimed, gesticulating angrily with his peaked cap. “You will be brought before the Führer himself-” Azure brightened as the machine fired, the young male vaporized instantly in a swirl of blue and black._

“What? It can just… disintegrate human targets?” Bruce questioned. “Some sort of high-powered plasma weapon?”

“And the bolts from the raygun can just evaporate organic material?” Tony queried in scepticism. “We should grab this guy – is Zola still alive?”

“Died in ’72, some terminal illness,” Natasha answered. “And the basis of Phase 2 weaponry came from him.”

“Recruited with other Nazi scientists for Operation Paperclip,” Clint finished.

“Why would you accept the aid of your enemies?” Thor asked.

“Strategic value,” Natasha shrugged.

“That’s absurd,” Loki replied, flabbergasted.

_The eyes of the eldest soldier widened as the other ducked behind to scramble for the exit, two streaks of blue missing the former as he dodged, Zola wincing. Schmidt barred his teeth in disappointment before adjusting the controls and firing again, the shot impacting the man’s chest to Schmidt’s nod._

_The barrel pointed to the last, unable to open the doors and flinging himself to face the gun with a screamed, ‘Schmidt!’ as his body was erased from existence._

_“My apologies, Doctor,” Schmidt addressed Zola, “but we both knew HYDRA could grow no further in Hitler’s shadow._

_“Hail HYDRA.”_

_The three workers present in the middle of the room snapped their heels together and raised their fists upward, repeating, “Hail HYDRA!” before relaxing._

_Schmidt faced them in approval, then quirked an eyebrow at Zola. He gathered himself to shout weakly, “Hail HYDRA!” Schmidt smiled as he turned and walked away, Zola’s eyes falling as his mouth opened and he slumped against the wall._

“See, he isn’t even really that loyal to Schmidt,” Tony announced. Loki rolled his eyes.

_Steve sat morosely on a medical table, eyes down as a nurse watched him carefully. She removed the needle and tubing from the crease of his elbow as he asked, “Think you got enough?” rolling the tanned sleeve of his uniform over the unnecessary bandages._

_“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code,” Peggy responded as he stood from the table and walked to her side, though he stared past her, “but without Dr. Erskine it will take years.”_

_“He deserved more than this.”_

_She inhaled and lowered the papers held to her chest to gaze through them, stating, “If it could work only once, he’d be proud it was you.” She offered him a small smile._

Bruce’s sentiments corresponded with hers, and he presented a compassionate and encouraging expression towards Steve to the Captain’s partial reassurance.

_Brant’s voice echoed up through the glass Steve stood in front of. “Colonel Phillips, my committee is demanding answers.”_

_“Great,” he snapped as he marched past the lowered square where Howard stood before the captured submarine. “Why don’t we start with how a German spy got a ride to my secret installation in your car? What do we got here?” he interrogated as he halted to face Howard._

_“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” he started. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing, or how it works. We’re not even close to this technology.”_

_“Then who is?” Brandt asked._

_“HYDRA,” Phillips said, then added sarcastically, “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”_

_“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” he justified._

_“HYDRA is the Nazi Deep Science division, it’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy informed as she approached, her firm stride emphasizing the swing of her hips and prompting the senator to take off his hat, “but he has much bigger ambitions.”_

_“HYDRA is practically a cult, they worship Schmidt – they think he’s invincible,” Phillips amended._

_“So what are you going to do about it?” he queried._

_Phillips turned and began, “Spoke to the president this morning – as of today, the SSR is being retasked.”_

_“Colonel?” Peggy wondered at his facing her, Steve behind._

_“We are taking the fight to HYDRA. Pack your bags, Agent Carter. You, too, Stark.” Howard wiped his hands on a rag in acquiesce before balling it to toss to the ground. “We’re flying to London tonight.”_

_“Sir,” Steve interrupted before he exited, “if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”_

_“You’re an experiment – you’re going to Alamogordo,” he countered._

_Steve exhaled before casting a glance to Peggy in commiseration and voicing, “The serum worked.”_

_“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You- are not enough.”_

_He walked from the room without another word._

Pepper frowned in antagonism as the others were irked at Steve being once again looked at as ‘not enough’.

_“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” the senator broached. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve – more importantly, the country’s seen it.” He smirked. “Paper,” he called with a point, the newsprint brought to him as Steve turned to look at it. “The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands,” he explained. The New York Examiner headline for Wednesday, June 23, 1943 was, ‘NAZIS IN NEW YORK: MYSTERY MAN SAVES CHILD,’ above news of the Allies’ rallying and perseverance in fighting._

_“You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and… hide him in a lab.” Steve’s shadowed eyes flicked unerringly onto him. “Son,” he led with a clap on the blond’s shoulder, turning him to walk with him, “do you want to serve your country, on the most important battlefield of the war?”_

“What a line,” Clint said.

_“Sir, that’s all I want,” he professed honestly._

_“Then, congratulations.” Brandt held out a hand and Steve shook it tenuously, hopeful. “You just got promoted.”_

“What is with you volunteering for things without knowing _anything_ about them?” Tony objected.

“It’s about intent,” Steve held.

“Others aren’t like you-” ‘What’s that supposed to mean-’

“It’s just easy for people to take advantage of you,” Pepper intruded, before their bickering began to accumulate, “when you volunteer for experiments.”

“This wasn’t an experiment,” he said.

“It could have been,” Thor remarked.

Clint nodded. “After the experiments of doctors in WWII, the law cracked down on human experimentation to protect people.”

“I wasn’t harmed any.”

“But the chances you could have been? There wasn’t informed consent,” Natasha added.

“I consented-”

“ _Informed_ consent,” Tony stressed. “I’m going to quote the first law of the Nuremberg Code* for you:

“‘The voluntary consent of the human subject is absolutely essential. This means that the person involved… should have sufficient knowledge and comprehension of the elements of the subject matter involved as to enable him to make an understanding and enlightened decision. This latter element requires that before the acceptance of an affirmative decision by the experimental subject there should be made known to him the nature, duration, and purpose of the experiment; the method and means by which it is to be conducted; all inconveniences and hazards reasonable to be expected; and the effects upon his health or person which may possibly come from his participation in the experiment. The duty and responsibility for ascertaining the quality of the consent rests upon each individual who initiates, directs or engages in the experiment. It is a personal duty and responsibility which may not be delegated to another with impunity.’

“So don’t tell me you were informed when you didn’t even know what happened to Schmidt, nevermind what the procedure included.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded, “but it worked.”

“In you, instilled some self-preservation, there will be,” Clint vowed with a point.

“Hear, hear**,” Loki decided lowly.

_Steve furrowed his brows and exhaled in nervousness, voicing, “I don’t know if I can do this.”_

“That’s what you get for agreeing to things.”

_“Nothing to it,” an agent divulged, circling to his side. “Sell a few bonds, bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazis. Bing, bang, boom-” He gave him a heartening slap on the back. “-you’re an American hero.”_

_“Just not how I pictured getting there,” he uttered._

_The man nodded as a showgirl peaked through the curtains to the backstage area where they conversed. “The Senator’s got a lot off pull up on the Hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.” Steve pulled a cowl over his head as a drumroll sounded, ushered, ‘Take the shield,’ before a band trumpeted and he was pushed with a ‘Go.’_

_A band began playing as he darted through the ranks of showgirls for the United Service Organization, his body garbed in blue with red and white stripes longwise on his abdomen, a white star in the center of his chest. His sleeves changed to white above his elbows and then there were scarlet gloves, and scarlet boots, shield held in hand with stars on blue along the flat top, above red and white stripes. A cowl covered his head with an A on the front and white wings on the side._

_“Who’s strong and brave,_  
 _here to save_  
 _the American way?”_

_the girls sung with smiles, short dresses and caps similarly American-flag themed as they marched in white heels._

Thor furrowed his brow and recoiled slightly as Loki raised an eyebrow, the others laughing and Steve flushed.

_“Not all of us can storm a beach, or drive a tank,” Steve stuttered awkwardly, “but there’s still a way all of us can fight.”_

_“Who vows to fight,_  
 _like a man for what’s right,_  
 _night and day?”_

_“Series E Defense Bonds – each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy’s gun.” The writing on the cards on the back of his shield was held up before he lowered them again. The girls’ skirts swished over the tops of their thighs as they swiveled their hips, saluting as they sang,_

_“Who will campaign_  
 _door-to-door for America?_  
 _Carry the flag_  
 _shore-to-shore for America?”_

_He was handed a baby girl from her blonde mother for a picture, her cooing and the child beginning to cry at his self-conscious hold before the pair were shepherded away. In front of a sign with him in his stage uniform, posing as Uncle Sam as he stated ‘I WANT YOU to BUY bonds!’, Senator Brandt stepped up to pose with him for a handshake._

  
_“From Hoboken to Spokane_   
_the Star-Spangled Man_   
_with a plan!”_   


_He marched with stern expression, sash of bullets slung across his chest, leading six men. ‘Cut!’ a man called to the screen projected with forestry falling back to a countdown from eight on grey. Spotlights shone over the cameras with rolls of film braced on them, a microphone positioned above. ‘Guys, don’t look at the camera!’_

_“We can’t ignore_  
 _there’s a threat and a war_  
 _we must win.”_

_“Each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy’s gun,” he announced with a point, showgirls marching between the flanking columns topped with golden eagles._

_“Who’ll hang a noose_  
 _on the goose-_  
 _stepping goons from Berlin?”_

_Small American flags were waved by hand over bright smiles as legs kicked out, applause sounding as he entered onto the stage._

_“Who will redeem,_  
 _heed the call for America?_  
 _Who’ll rise or fall,_  
 _give his all for America?”_

_Steve bade a close-mouthed smile as the senator sat in the audience and looked around at the cheering, nodding in praise._

_“Who’s here to prove that we can?_  
 _The Star-Spangled Man_  
 _with a plan!”_

_A male dressed in tan uniform and leather boots held a handgun as he obviously sidestepped onto the stage, dark hair slick and small mustache just over the center of his lip as Steve projected on the other side of a line of girls, “We all know this is about trying to win the war, and we can’t do that without bullets and bandages, tanks and tents. That’s where you come in – every bond you buy will help protect someone you love.” ‘Turn around!’ ‘He’s right behind you!’ a couple of children in the front row yelled to try and warn, their fingers pointing as they leaned forward. ‘Turn around!’ “Keep our boys armed and ready, and the Germans will think twice about trying to get the drop on us.”_

_The man is revealed to have Nazi arm bands as he pushed through the line of showgirls, gun wielded to Steve reeling back a fist to swing to his face. Cymbals crashed instead of an impact, and the girls screamed when ‘Hitler’ was knocked onto his back. They fluttered and gasped as they clapped, the children in the front standing as they cheered._

‘Oh my god, I’m dying,’ Clint wheezed as he laughed, Tony guffawing as he slid further into the couch.

_“Stalwart and steady and true,_  
 _(See how this guy can shoot?_  
 _We tell you, there’s no substitute!)”_

_In Buffalo, Milwaukee, Philadelphia, and Chicago cymbals sounded at each confrontation with ‘Hitler’, loud ovations resultant. Steve raised a hand to the crowd, and the senator looked on with a grin._

_“Forceful and ready to defend_  
 _The red, white, and blue.”_

_At a newsstand, hands rushed to hand over sufficient change for one of the comic books of the stacks, the exploits of Captain America across the pages. The young boys opened the books immediately and spoke to one another, worn copies sent to soldiers on the field to inspire._

_“Who’ll give the Axis the sack_  
 _and is smart as a fox?_  
 _(Far as an eagle will soar)”_

_A film displayed Steve using his shield to deflect bullets before he waved his squad to follow him, tanks rolling in their wake as they moved into danger and shot furiously._

_“Who’s making Adolf afraid_  
 _to step out of his box?_  
 _(He knows what we’re fighting for)”_

_Steve huffed a bit of laughter at the sight from his seat in the theatre as those around him clapped, the version on-screen mouthing, ‘Come on!’ as he waved his men forward._

_“Who waked the giant_  
 _that napped in America?_  
 _We know it’s no one_  
 _but Captain America.”_

_Men marched as they beat their drums, the women executing kicks._

_“Who’ll finish what they began?”_

_Steve signed a comic book for a boy as he trot down stairs before he was faced with a blonde woman who greeted excitedly, 'Hi.’ He stared at her for a second as a camera flash flared, then signed the offered paper._

_In New York City,_

_“Who’ll kick the Krauts to Japan?”_

_he held a motorcycle with three showgirls overhead, their helmets emblazoned with ‘U’, ‘S’, and ‘A’ on a pedestal before a large red, white, and blue star, images of planes shown above._

_“The Star-Spangled Man_  
 _with a plan!_  
 _(Who’s strong and brave,_  
 _here to save_  
 _the American way?)”_

_Tanks fired shots as the girls marched, kicked, and waved flags before posing under a rain of confetti, applause and whistles echoing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Little Thai Kitchen' is the referenced Thai restaurant. You can order online, and it’s a few blocks (less than a mile) NE of Stark Tower/the MetLife Building. For the Classic Entrees, the choices are vegetable, tofu, chicken, pork, beef, shrimp, or squid for ‘meat’ and white or brown rice, the order as follows:  
> Spring Rolls (2): vegetable spring rolls with sweet plum sauce  
> (Tony) Cashew Nuts: beef with sautéed cashew nuts, carrots, onions, and baby corn in cashew nut sauce on brown rice +shrimp +peanut sauce  
> (Pepper) Hot Garlic: vegetables with sautéed garlic, onions, and bell peppers in red chili paste on white rice
> 
> (*) The Nuremberg Code is a set of research ethics and principles for human experimentation, established as a result of the Nuremberg Trials at the end of WWII.
> 
> (**) (Just thought this was interesting) ‘Hear, hear!’ is derived from ‘Hear ye, hear him!’ It represents the listener’s agreement to the point made by the speaker, ‘hear ye,’ addressing all the people to ‘hear him.’


	6. Gamble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonds develop as Steve battles HYDRA on a solo rescue mission, emotions turbulent.

_“How many of you are ready to help me sock old Adolf on the jaw?” he asked, garbed in bold costume on stage. The hundreds of men seated in the dirt stared back at him in their drab uniforms in silence, and he said gracelessly, “Okay, uh…”_

“The awkwardness,” Tony winced to Steve’s agreeing smile.

_The collection was five miles from the warfront in Italy, and it was November of 1943. He attempted to recover from between the columns topped with golden eagles and the bright USO stars and stripes, “I need a volunteer.”_

_“I already volunteered – how do you think I got here?” one shouted to others’ laughter._

Bruce, Natasha, and Clint stilled in preparation for the taunts about to be publicly focused upon him.

_“Bring back the girls!” another inserted to a chorus of enthusiastic ‘Yeah!’ and cheering._

_He dithered, uncertain, as he cast his gaze offstage before replying, “I think they only know the one song, but, um… Let me- I’ll see what I can do.”_

_“You do that, sweetheart,” a soldier jeered._

_“Nice boots, Tinker Bell!” Hodge mocked to tittering mirth._

“Should knock that guy out,” Tony advised with a sneer.

_“Come on, guys,” Steve coaxed, “we’re all on the same team here.”_

_“Hey, Captain!” another shouted, standing and turning his back. “Sign this!” he called as he lowered the waist of his pants to expose his behind. Steve glanced away at the sight and guffawing as he pulled his slacks back up, another standing to hurl a tomato at him. Beneath the banner proudly stating that ‘The Hollywood Overseas Committee presents CAPTAIN AMERICA’, the man hid behind his shield._

“At least the shield came in handy,” Clint inserted, Pepper leaning over to lay a comforting hand on Steve’s knee for a moment.

_Another two of the ripened fruit were used as projectiles to Steve’s exit as the soldiers hollered and clapped, crying, ‘Bring back the girls!’ The showgirls skipped out onto the stage to uproarious applause as the piano began the jaunty tune for ‘The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan’ again._

_“Don’t worry, pal, they’ll warm up to you – don’t worry,” the senator’s assistant reassured as the two passed the ladies rushing to begin their number. He objected in silence and walked away, down the steps in his tan leather boots._

“You’re literally this huge guy,” Tony remarked, “they should put you to work! You went through the same training as these other guys.”

Steve just gave a slight shrug.

_He sat with a notebook on his knees, the left page sporting an outline of Italy and Sicily with a train streaking from the mountains and trees alongside Rome that filled the center of the country. He sketched a fiercely grinning monkey on the right page, bearing a striped shield and wearing a sweater with a star in the center as it held an umbrella and peddled a unicycle before a crowd of clowns. Heavy rain fell to the mud around him as he curled at the edge of the deserted stage area._

Loki narrowed his eyes and frowned at the self-depreciation, no matter the accuracy of the circumstances.

_“Hello, Steve.”_

_He turned at the female voice to find Peggy standing behind him with jacket folded over her arm. “Hi,” he answered in surprise. ‘Hi,’ she repeated before he questioned, “What are you doing here?”_

_“Officially, I’m not here at all,” she responded as she threw her coat onto the trunk behind him and perched on the edge. “That was quite a performance.”_

_“Yeah, uh-” Steve furrowed his brow as he turned away, looking down. “I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are a little more, uh…” he gestured uselessly before finishing despondently, “twelve.”_

“True,” Bruce nodded.

_“Well, I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope,’” she quoted._

_“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit.”_

_“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”_

_Steve paused before countering, “At least he’s got me doing this – Philips would’ve had me stuck in a lab.”_

_“And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey?” she interrogated with a look to his drawing. “You were meant for more than this, you know.” He opened his mouth before hesitatingly closing it again, to her querying, “What?”_

_“You know for the longest time I dreamed about,” he shook his head, “coming overseas, and… being on the front lines… serving my country – I finally got everything I wanted.” He stared up as thunder echoed in the distance, muttering, “And I’m wearing tights.”_

The group found this more depressing than humorous; the statement served as a reminder of all Steve wished to accomplish, the effort he had put into his training, and the risks with the serum. And he ended up as a stage performer instead of one of the soldiers on the front lines.

_A car horn beeped to their turning to a truck with the white flag of the Red Cross rolling up to a long tent bearing the same. ‘Move it, move it!’ soldiers and medics called, the injured carted out on stretchers._

_“They look like they’ve been through hell.”_

_“These men more than most,” Peggy acknowledged. He looked to her and she stared at him searchingly in consideration before starting, “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him, and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th,” abruptly his eyes flicked upward as she finished, “the rest were killed or captured.”_

Tony cursed as Thor frowned, looking to Steve for a hint of his friend’s fate as the rest stilled at the news.

_“The 107th?” he restated in fret._

_“What?”_

_He ran from the shelter into the downpour and beckoned, ‘Come on!’ as she followed, jacket hastily held over her. They crossed into another tent and Steve addressed, “Colonel Phillips.”_

_“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan,” he greeted mockingly from his seat at a small desk. “What is your plan today?”_

_“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”_

_“You don’t get to give me orders, son,” he bit as Peggy lowered her coat onto her shoulders._

_“I just need one name: Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh,” Steve pleaded._

_Phillips darted his narrowed gaze onto Peggy and indicated her with his pen, “You and I are going to have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.”_

_“Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R-”_

_“I can spell.” A tense silence pervaded until Phillips’ eyes lowered and he sighed. He stood with sheaf of papers in hand and turned away, explaining, “I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count, but…” he shook his head and laid the forms down, facing them with hands on his hips, “the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”_

Thor threw his arms around him in a tight embrace, Steve returning it before reluctantly informing, “He’s alive – he’s fine.”

Most knew of Bucky’s fate through the comic books, and the display at the Smithsonian, and averted their gazes. Loki cast his eyes over the others and considered the repetition of the response, Thor hearing the self-comfort and reassurance in the Captain’s speech and maintaining his hold for a little while longer before freeing him.

_Steve’s expression crumpled as he let his head fall, before he composed himself and asked from under a blanket of shock, “What about the others – are you planning a rescue mission?”_

_“Yeah, it’s called winning the war,” he retorted._

_The blond’s gaze pinned him in accusation, objecting after a moment, “But if you know where they are, why not at least-”_

_“They’re thirty miles behind the lines, through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe – we’d lose more men than we’d save,” he informed from in front of a detailed map before he turned to deride, “But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”_

Thor glared as Tony commented, “I’m really going back and forth on this guy.”

_“I think I understand just fine.”_

_“Well then understand it somewhere else.” He strode past while remarking, “If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”_

_Steve leaned closer in inspection of the pins marking the yellow line of English and American defenses before the triangular HYDRA base beyond, and answered firmly, “Yes, sir. I do.”_

“There we go – go kick some ass,” Tony cheered.

_Peggy watched him exit, astounded, before her eyes widened at the particularizing of the map. Her mouth fell open before Phillips pointed to her from behind at her silence and ordered clearly, “If you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself.” She faced him for a second and then turned frantically back to the chart._

_Steve packed a backpack in the costuming tent with green khakis over the blue leggings of his costume while Peggy entered, the rack of red, white, and blue showgirl dresses blocking the faint light of the opening. She questioned sarcastically, “What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?”_

_“If that’s what it takes,” he responded distractedly._

_“You heard the Colonel – your friend is most likely dead.”_

_“You don’t know that,” he countered with a shake of his head._

_“Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects-”_

_“By the time he’s done that it could be too late!” he yelled as he pulled a brown leather jacket over his arms and grabbed the sack at his feet. ‘Steve!’ she called as he ran out, following him._

_He threw his stage shield and bag into the back of a truck, pausing to turn to her and say, “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”_

_“Every word,” she declared._

_He glanced down in absorption, then announced, “Then you gotta let me go,” moving around the side of the vehicle and pulling himself into the driver’s seat._

_She trailed to brace one hand on the door and the other on the windshield as he turned the keys to start the engine. “I can do more than that.”_

Natasha approved of the aid, the support while the Captain was presented with an oppourtunity to make a difference promising.

_The females of the USO campaign hurried past each other backstage, a coordinator pronouncing, ‘On stage, girls – five minutes!’ as one ran to grab her helmet from the shelving, painted with a white ‘U’. Another removed her ‘S’, and a third approached only to flounder at its absence. She inquired, “Where’s my helmet?” peeking at the row of plain blue helmets above._

_“Has anyone seen Rogers?” a man summoned._

“Resourceful,” Pepper held.

_In the dark of night, a lustrous metal airplane flew through the sky, the orange of internal illumination dimly showing through the window panes. “The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg,” Peggy described over a map, “tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.” Steve sat across from her with helmet emblazoned with an ‘A’, adjusting the straps of his parachute._

_“We should be able to drop you ‘round the doorstep,” Howard called from the cockpit as he steered._

Tony resisted reacting, breathing through his resentment. Being able to see the man so bold and involved compounded the lack of life and attachment that he had experienced growing up.

_“Just get me as close as you can,” he yelled back before warning Peggy, “You know you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.”_

_“And you won’t?” she disputed._

_“Where I’m going if anybody yells at me I can just shoot ‘em.”_

_“They will undoubtedly shoot back,” she warned._

_“Well, let’s hope it’s good for something,” he remarked, twisting to knock on the shield propped up beside him._

“It’s just common sense to carry a shield as well as a weapon,” Pepper interjected, suggesting to Tony, “You should attach one to your suit.”

“A collapsible one, maybe – they’re too cumbersome.”

_“Agent Carter,” Howard called suggestively, “if we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.”_

Tony rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as Clint and Thor smirked at the behaviour.

_Peggy shifted uncomfortably as she averted her gaze before glancing up to Steve as he adjusted his gloves while meeting her eyes, then back in reference to Howard, “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace – we’re lucky to have him.”_

_“So, are you two- Do you…” he stuttered, gesturing uselessly as she threw her gaze to Howard before quirking an eyebrow in question. He nodded and finished, “…fondue?”_

Pepper giggled as Tony and Bruce chuckled, Steve shifting in awkwardness.

_She furrowed her brow minutely before lifting a device from her lap and handing it to him, explaining, “This is your transponder, activate it when you’re ready and a signal will lead us straight to you.”_

_He received it and hesitated slightly before shouting to the cockpit, “Are you sure this thing works?”_

_“It’s tested more than you, pal,” Howard commented._

“What isn’t?” Loki snorted.

_Abruptly bright shots streaked through the night sky from turrets stationed in the forest below, Howard maneuvering the plane in avoidance as Peggy lifted her arms to grip the back of the seat on either side of her as Steve grabbed his shield and stood._

_“Get back here,” Peggy ordered in protest as she worked to balance herself as she shadowed him. “We’re taking you all the way in.”_

_He opened the exit door in the side and crouched down, shouting through the strong wind, “As soon as I’m clear you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!”_

_“You can’t give me orders!” she countered from his side._

_“The hell I can’t,” he responded, “I’m a Captain.” He turned and smiled, pulling the goggles on his helmet down over his eyes and diving out. Her eyes widened and she lurched forward to watch him descend, his form falling until a parachute was released amidst the surrounding shots._

_The airplane banked sharply away._

“You’d better be careful,” Pepper warned.

“He’s a supersoldier – he’ll be perfect,” Tony retorted.

_Steady, gloved hands inserted rectangular, shining azure components into a wheel laid flat on a table, another two men carrying a completed circular piece across the space as Zola reported to Schmidt, “As you can see, production of the Valkyrie is progressing on schedule – even with components of this size.” He gesticulated to the part born past in example as they walked, Schmidt surveying the pieces assembled through alignment of them along wide rods._

_“Increase the output by sixty percent,” he commanded, “and see to it our other facilities do the same.”_

_“But, these prisoners,” he began in objection, turning to face him, “I-I’m not sure they have the strength.”_

_“Then use up what strength they have left, Doctor. There are always more workers.”_

“Bastard.”

_Zola looked down as he moved away, furrowing his brow. He dismissed the worker who approached with a clipboard, uttering a ‘Not now’ in frustration. He walked through the sprawling area and the workspace of the aircraft._

_On a lower level, faint, pale light streamed down through the grating above into the holding cells of the HYDRA base. A line of captured soldiers was herded through an aisle by the darkly armoured men, a thickly mustached man shoved in the shoulder by the HYDRA agent’s baton before the entrance to a cell, then had his shabby bowler hat knocked off._

_“You know, Fritz,” he started from the interior, replacing the hat on his head, “one of these days I’m gonna have a stick of my own.”_

Steve huffed out a laugh, naming, “Dugan.”

_The male behind, wearing a beret-_

“James.”

_-watched as he confronted him, and then the bars were shut._

“Did you find them all in the same cell?” Bruce asked.

“Most of them,” Steve replied.

“Who are they?” Thor asked.

“Steve picked several individuals from here for an elite squad under him,” Natasha explained. “They were christened the Howling Commandos.”

“Quick – Captain America Trivia: name the five rescued here,” Tony prompted with a smirk.

“Dum Dum Dugan,” Clint answered with a point to the screen.

“James Montgomery Falsworth, Jim Morita,” Natasha listed.

“Gabriel Jones,” Pepper added.

“Jacques Dernier,” Bruce finished.

Loki raised an eyebrow as Steve flushed. The blond asked warily, “There isn’t really a game about me, is there?”

“If there is, Coulson has it,” Tony replied. “Wouldn’t be surprised if there was trivia about the rest of us circling around.”

_A mist coated the dark of a thick forest as Steve ran quickly through, keeping low to the ground. Form obscured, he slowed to a stop and stood to note the open gate of the enemy base under the watchtower with bright spotlights swiveling to search the ground, the shouting of agents in the distance. At another source of rumbling, he turned and crouched down, motorcycles and cargo trucks navigating the road towards him._

_As they passed he broke cover, sprinting after the last truck to reach and catch hold of the rim of the box and throw himself into it. He rolled under the flap to sit staring up at two HYDRA agents._

“Just your luck,” Clint drawled.

_“Fellas,” he greeted in the lapse of their surprise, before they charged with a yell. The impacts of a fight sounded as the top of the anchored tarp flared with thrown bodies, and then the first, and the second, agent was tossed unconscious onto the road behind._

_The trucks rolled through the guarding sentries into the encampment, turning and reversing to park and unload their cargo. An agent lifted the flap of the last vehicle to face a brightly striped shield, and Steve thrust it forward to knock him backwards into the warehouse. He swiftly jumped out to land lightly on his feet, then dashed away from the numerous workers at the other trucks._

_General instructions were ordered over the P.A. as he weaved through the packed cars in the yard, glancing around as he kept low before running across the space to climb up the side of a tank and onto a low roof. He darted forward towards another, seeking a way into the long, tall building that was a fortified factory._

“That shield is so bright, it’s ridiculous,” Tony remarked.

“You should take more care on missions requiring stealth,” Loki submitted.

_The shadow of Steve’s helmet and shoulders showed through the window of one of the reinforced doors inside the structure, and he knocked three times on the surface. An agent strode to the door and opened it to peek around, and the metal was slammed against his head before a punch hit his face. He fell to Steve’s dragging of him into the hallway, and then the blond crept into the large room._

“Curiosity is the bane of most sentient beings,” Loki interrupted.

_He moved past a crate of explosives marked in German ‘fragile’ with caution and glanced at the armed agent whose back was to him and the men garbed in grey lab coats, then ran across the aisle to pause between some machinery and look around again. He drew his gun as he stole carefully through the weaponry, then stared curiously over the wheel of assembled azure pieces laid on the table to his right. Several components were left on the surface alongside, and he approached to lift and examine a small rectangular device that shone as bright as each other piece. He inserted it into his pocket and directed his eyes to the levels above._

_Armed HYDRA agents walked along the grating covering the circular cells, one moving to the partition between two to ensuing clangs and him falling onto the bars below, unconscious. James, Gabe, Jacques, and Dugan glanced up, standing as Steve relieved the guard’s keys with a rattle._

_“Who are you supposed to be?” Gabe asked._

_“I’m-” Steve began as he glanced around, finishing awkwardly as he panted, “Captain America.”_

_“I… beg your pardon?” James questioned incredulously._

Laughter sounded. “The costume and name are a bit much,” Natasha noted.

_Steve ignored the inquiry and unlocked the doors, Dugan asking, “What? Are we taking everybody?” as he faced Jim, released from another cell._

_“I’m from Fresno, Ace,” he retorted as he tugged out his dog tags._

_“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for Sergeant James Barnes,” Steve whispered as he led the group through the area._

_“There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it,” James answered._

_“All right,” he said slowly before suggesting, “The tree line is northwest, eighty yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell.” He turned back to inform, “I’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.”_

_“Wait,” Gabe interrupted. “You know what you’re doing?”_

_“Yeah, I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two-hundred times,” he replied. Dugan turned to the others in question as Steve ran off, the group of men watching his exit with bright starred and striped shield on his back._

Tony snorted. “I can’t imagine what they’re thinking.”

_The soldiers pushed open a pair of doors to confront the agents stationed outside, Jacques grabbing the front of Jim’s shirt and pointing off to the side for them to run to while James punched the first encountered. Dugan darted in front of him to lead from the structure, hitting another before a couple of agents began firing. Two soldiers were shot, the others rushing over them, and before more than a limited number more were hit the agents were overrun and attacked._

_Jacques rushed an agent with a glowing weapon as Jim circled to his side, the one grabbing hold of the device as the other kicked the man in the knee. Dugan ran up to the side of a tank and clambered up the wheel and onto the top of it. Jacques punched the captured agent in the stomach before Jim seized him around the neck and twisted his head, throwing him onto the ground with bared teeth._

_Jacques picked up the glowing gun as Jim asked, “Do you know how to use that thing?” He shrugged and shook his head, pulling the trigger to fire a ray past the other, who held up his hands in defense, to impact and explode a wall in the distance. Jacques stared at him, and Jim conceded, “Okay.”_

Bruce chuckled as Natasha uttered, “Just pick up alien technology and work it.”

_Schmidt stood within the factory, an explosion calling his attention to the camera’s surveillance that captured the escaped soldiers’ fight. “What is happening?” he questioned as he stepped back, firmly pressing a button in the control center that sounded an alarm as Zola rose from his seat behind and moved forward in anxiety._

“Your camp shall fall to ruin!” Thor declared.

_Dugan slipped into the hole behind the turret and seated himself in the tank, Gabe entering behind to his ‘hey’. “Not exactly a Buick,” he informed him needlessly as he gripped the foreign steering._

_“That one: ‘Zundung’*,” Gabe instructed with a point, moving to his side._

_“Zundung?” he repeated as he pressed it, the engine starting. “Ooh,” he admired with a laugh._

_“Get this thing going, Dugan!” James yelled as he leaped over the lip of the entrance._

_“I didn’t know you spoke German,” Dugan said to Gabe._

_“Three semesters at Howard, switched to French – girls much cuter.”_

_“Didn’t ask for the resume.”_

_The vehicle was propelled into motion, James gripping the turret controls firmly above and swivelling it to shoot a beam at a truck. It exploded as the back end was ripped apart. Dugan yelled in exhilaration as he drove through the camp, James firing again._

_The doors of the base opened on the interior and the soldiers streamed out, running with guns in hand. HYDRA agents were shot and left groaning on the factory floor, calls sounding, warning, ‘On your left!’ and ‘Up top!’ regarding the agents entering to rain fire down._

“They are well organized, considering the situation,” Loki applauded.

_The alarm sounded to Schmidt’s watching of the surge attacking the agents, and then he manipulated one of the cameras further in to magnify the footage of Steve. The blond darted to hit a man across the chest, then backhand him away to Schmidt leaning forward in interest. Steve used his shield to knock another out of his path, and a strong kick to one more who stood in front of him. Fighting on his own, Schmidt gazed on thoughtfully before turning to flip open the covering of a switch and pull it down. He pressed the button beside and the numbers displaying 07.00 began to flip, 06.59, to count down the seconds making up the minutes._

_He repeated the action on the pair of controls beside, and then the next, as Zola rushed to him to grab his hand and protest, “No, no! What are you doing?”_

_06.58-57-56-55_

_“Our forces are outmatched,” he explained with a look to the screens. He continued as the timers ticked, Zola staring at Steve’s progress through the factory with the slamming of his shield._

_Zola darted away as Schmidt approached the end of the row of identical controls, pulling open the door and running over the bridge with a glance over his shoulder._

“At least he’s destroying the place,” Clint voiced.

_Steve thrust a leg out and kicked an agent in the chest, the man hurled backwards over the rail. Steve rushed to lean over, casting his eyes on the factory floor below before drawing his gun and jogging across the bridge._

“You don’t have much time though,” Bruce cautioned.

_Outside, Jacques fired the innovative weapon while Jim shot automatic rounds, the latter ordering, “Keep moving! Grab those grenades!”_

_The sticks were grasped and hurled forward, the agents opposite bombarded with the explosives._

“They’re almost out, at least,” Pepper said.

_Schmidt turned the handle protruding from a container, and the interior shell began to raise, an azure cast set to the lit surroundings. He grabbed the handle and removed the clear case holding the Tesseract._

“His priorities surround his power,” Thor observed.

_2.43-42-41-40-39_

_Zola hurriedly stuffed papers into a briefcase, grabbing blueprints from the surface of the desk in the office and shoving them in before it and a folder were jerked away. The folder was inserted before he threw out a hand to peel another sheaf from the side of a cabinet as he exited, the map of Europe framed on the wall displaying the six HYDRA bases established._

_He stumbled into a hall with jacket over his arm and briefcase in hand, Steve at the other end pausing at the sight of him. Zola moved back several steps before turning and running, Steve beginning to pursue before he slowed as he levelled with the door from which the doctor had come. He turned away from him and crouched, sneaking into the rooms._

_He passed shelving of cans and containers into a dimly lit room, the grimy daylight shining in from the window onto books and binders. Muttering was heard, ‘…sergeant…three-two-five-five-seven…’ and Steve ran forward._

_“Bucky,” he exhaled as he circled his side, Bucky’s eyes fluttering open above the thick strap over his chest pinning him onto a flat table. “Oh my god…” he said as he darted his eyes over him, ripping the ends of the restraints apart. Bolts clinked off the ground as Steve threw the material from around him, Bucky staring at the ceiling over the heavy, intricate machine suspended with needles pointed down at him._

Bruce clenched his hands into fists as Loki growled slightly, anger on the occupants of the room’s expressions with the exception being Steve’s downcast face.

_He turned wide eyes to the other, blinking and managing weakly, “Is- Is that-”_

_“It’s me,” he answered as he gripped his shoulders. “It’s Steve.”_

_“Steve?” he repeated. The blond urged, ‘Come on,’ as he said in relief, “Steve.”_

_He helped him sit up before pulling him to his feet, bracing him as they held each other at the biceps. Steve moved his hand to the side of his neck before returning to hold him up, breathing heavily as he declared, “I thought you were dead.”_

_Bucky ran his eyes over him in bewilderment as he straightened from his slump, replying, “I thought you were smaller.”_

Steve chortled weakly.

_An explosion sounded and Steve turned before glancing back and looking into the office, map across from him detailing the triangular pins of where HYDRA was stationed. Gunfire echoed and he pulled Bucky’s right arm over his shoulders and embraced him about the waist. “Come on.”_

_“What happened to you?” Bucky questioned as he lurched alongside Steve’s leave-taking._

_“I joined the army.”_

“Guess that’s true,” Clint said as he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

_Shots sparked off of the rims and panels of the tank commandeered from the guards under the watchtower before James fired and the pillar and gates were destroyed in a burst of flames._

“Your comrades are out,” Thor mentioned. “It’s only the two of you left.”

_Bucky stumbled behind Steve as he asked, “Did it hurt?”_

_He distractedly replied, “A little.”_

_“Is it permanent?” he shot in concern._

_“So far.”_

“That’s something we should look into,” Bruce interposed. “If your cells are continually mutating, then there would be a definitive length of time before the serum is overrun. There could be harmful effects to the degeneration.”

“J, work on gathering all SHIELD’s work on the serum and the data they’ve got on Cap,” Tony ordered. “And make a note to draw some blood.”

The AI responded, ‘Yes, sir,’ as they frowned at the thought.

_The group exalted at their exit as they drove and ran over the scattered flames in the dirt, escaping the compound._

_00.04-03-02-01-00_

_Explosions rocketed through the factory floor to the bright white flaring and plumes of smoke ripping through the constructions and mechanizations of the weapons._

_00.02-01-00_

_Clouds of debris flew through the air as pounded metal sheets and wired devices toppled onto what was left of the flooring._

_00.02-01-00_

_Flashes flickered blindingly as Steve and Bucky came to the rail overlooking the nearing destruction, explosions appearing close and forcing Steve to raise his shield and Bucky to turn away as they flinched back. The blond rushed to the stairs behind with Bucky faltering in harried pursuit as they sought a higher crossing._

_The ruin continued as they raised a level, and Steve threw his eyes from side to side before running right with Bucky tripping over his feet to execute the same sharp turn._

_“Captain America!” Schmidt hailed from the other end of the bridge._

“He’s not what you need right now,” Pepper muttered.

_“How exciting!” He handed a thick, armoured briefcase to Zola. “I am a great fan of your films!”_

_Bucky braced himself weakly against the rail with pursed lips as Steve straightened and raised his chin in confrontation. Schmidt and Steve walked to close the distance between them as the former proclaimed, “So, Doctor Erskine managed it after all.” They met in the middle as he simultaneously derided and complimented, “Not exactly an improvement, but, still, impressive.”_

_Steve reeled back a fist and threw it at Schmidt, the man impacted with an ‘oof’ as he lowered his head and held the rails on either side of him._

_“You got no idea,” Steve responded fiercely._

_Schmidt rose with a gloved hand to his cheek, hair tossed over the skin around an eye, loosened to reveal a rich red._

Tony and Bruce leaned forward in interest.

_“Haven’t I?” he interrogated, moving a fist back as Steve raised his shield to punch the metal and dent the shape of his knuckles._

_Steve stared at the imprint in shock before he reached to pull out his gun, but Schmidt punched him across the face and threw him onto his back to the firearm dropping to topple off the edge. He advanced as Steve gathered his legs and kicked out, knocking him back as well. Zola bit his lip and drew down the lever in front of him, separating the two components of the bridge and the two enhanced men over the explosions of the building’s self-destruct._

_“No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see, I was his greatest success!” Schmidt pronounced. He moved his hand to reach across to the underside of his jaw and began to pull up on the skin. Steve and Bucky stared as the organ tore and was dragged over his clenched teeth to expose taut, scarlet skin. Steve’s eyes narrowed as his mouth hung parted._

_Schmidt held his false face by his side as he ripped the remaining piece at his nape away. His head was bare of hair with the cartilage of his ears minimal, heavy brow, sculpted cheekbones, and absence of the triangular tip of his nose depicting a skull-like visage from within his eyes glowered and teeth bared._

_“You don’t have one of those, do you?” Bucky asked, numb._

‘Shit,’ ‘fuck,’ ‘ew,’ and ‘what?’ where chorused in reaction to the startlingly red pigment, exclamations of astonishment extensive.

_“You are deluded, Captain,” the Red Skull stated. “You pretend to be a- simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind.” Zola watched as the skin mask was thrown down into the plumes of explosions. Steve gazed at him as he walked away, a blast sounding like thunder in the background. “Unlike you, I embrace it proudly,” Zola stepped back, eyes still lowered, as Schmidt drew closer to the exit behind and gestured to himself, other hand grasping his briefcase as another bang echoed, “without fear.”_

_“Then how come you’re running?” Steve challenged. Schmidt merely smirked as he and Zola stepped into the elevator and he pressed one of the lift’s buttons, the doors sliding shut._

_A series of explosions detonated to the whirling of scrap through the illuminated, cloudy air, and Steve raised his shield before searching for an exit. A shut, reinforced door was on the floor above, a beam of scaffolding bridging the two sides._

_“Come on, let’s go – up,” he ushered Bucky, gripping his shoulder and moving to push him forward as he lowered his head and shoved Steve in front as they moved._

_Zola asked, “Sir? Are we going to the roof?” gazing up at Schmidt. He glanced over his form before the doors opened to reveal the top of a ship. He questioned apprehensively, “What about me? Where will I sit?”_

_He lifted and dropped a car key into his hand, ordering, “Not a scratch, Doctor,” as he walked out. “Not a scratch.” He moved across the bridge to the doors shutting._

_Blasts boomed as Steve and Bucky came to one end of the support, the metal bouncing on either side of the hinge in the middle before falling still again._

_Zola entered the garage to spotlights on the sleek, grey, supercharged V16 Coupé and hurried around. He tossed his briefcase into the back seat with a grunt before twisting the handle of the door._

_The elongated ship outside pointed heavenwards as three arms stuck out as propellers at its middle and their ends powered up to spin them around. The bridge retracted as the protrusions increased in speed, a shield moving forward to secure Schmidt inside the small cockpit._

_The engine of the vehicle rumbled as Zola sat behind the wheel, and the double doors were pushed open with a screech of its tires as it was driven out of the enclosure, headlights blazing._

_The aircraft gradually rose into the clouds._

“Was too much to hope for it to be easy and them to burn, huh?” Tony remarked.

_The work floor was covered in flames that continued to spur destruction as Steve helped Bucky over the rail above, instructing, “Let’s go. One at a time.” He helped steady him as he cast his wide eyes from side to side at the heated air he was suspended in._

_Bucky crouched at the end before releasing his hold on the support behind, creeping forward as the opposite end shifted back and forth at its attachment. He walked, glancing and wincing at the explosions that reached up from below, the end falling a foot with a screech._

Pepper gripped Tony’s hand in anxiety.

_His arms flew out for balance as he gaped, then he composed himself and turned his body forwards to move over the center piece._

_With one foot slightly raised the beam fell again, and he lowered his leg and stepped on before hurrying to run and leap as the metal dropped out from under him. His hands gripped the rail as he hooked an elbow over as well, Steve flinching back as the support plummeted down. Bucky rolled over the rail onto the grating of the floor to look back at Steve across the gap._

_“There’s gotta be a rope or something!” he pleaded with hands spread._

_“Just go! Get out of here!” Steve implored as he waved him on._

_“No! Not without you!” he insisted with a slam onto the metal._

_“Hell,” he muttered as he looked at the bent piece of rail in front of him, gripping the one on his other side to force it out and away with grit teeth._

“Are you serious?” Natasha questioned rhetorically, turning to narrow her eyes at him.

_Blasts ballooned fire through the remaining tall lights reaching just beneath them as Steve hurried back across the space with the opening to the fall in front of him._

_He glanced down, winced with a slight shake of his head, and sighed as he barred his teeth, looking at Bucky before sinking down to lunge forward and run. He met the ledge and jumped with legs and arms pumping over the cloudy space, explosions shooting up._

“Damn cuts,” Tony said as flames covered the screen and another scene was shown. “At least we know what’s up, and you’re fine – ‘cause you’re here.”

_Hands were poised over and pressed into the keys of a typewriter as Colonel Phillips enunciated for print, “Senator Brandt, I regret to report that Captain Steven G. Rogers went missing behind enemy lines on the third.” He read from a small notepad in front of him. “Aerial reconnaissance has proven unfruitful. As a result, I must declare Captain Rogers… killed in action,” he concluded, propping his hands onto his hips. “Period.”_

_Peggy entered the shelter of the tent with photos in hand, looking through the few images as Phillips turns to her. “The last surveillance flight is back,” she justified, placing the sheets down. He sorted through them. “No sign of activity.”_

_“Go get a cup of coffee, Corporal,” Phillips ordered to a prompt, ‘Yes, sir.’ He moved away from Peggy as the typewriter exited, sighing. “I can’t touch Stark, he’s rich – and he’s the army’s number one weapons contractor. You are neither one.” He turned to her._

Steve shook his head and winced.

_“With respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions,” she replied. “And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.”_

_“What makes you think I give a damn about your opinions?” he countered, advancing to her. “I took a chance with you, Agent Carter, and now America’s Golden Boy and a lot of other good men are dead – ‘cause you had a crush.”_

_“It wasn’t that. I had faith.”_

_“Well, I hope that’s a big comfort to you when they shut this division down.”_

_She met his gaze for several seconds before the constant movement of others behind outside drew Phillips’ attention. “What the hell is going on out there?” he wondered gruffly as he moved past her, Peggy relaxing her jaw and straightening her shoulders as she turned to follow._

_The two walked amidst the other soldiers of the camp, gathering to look out at the road that stretched on. A white and red bar was lifted as the men that escaped HYDRA marched up the hill, Steve taking point with Bucky, James, and Gabe flanking on one side and Dugan, Jim, and Jacques on the other. The men moved leisurely with strong postures, weapons in hand and leading dozens, a tank rolling in the center as they persevered through their injuries._

_One called in sight of Steve, ‘Look who it is!’ those parting for the group pointing and clapping. Steve exchanged a smirk with Bucky and lightly slapped his back, Hodge, a member of the camp, called out, blinking and moving to view the group._

_Steve marched to the center and stood in front of Phillips, halting to raise his hand in salute. “Some of these men need medical attention,” he reported. ‘Medic! We got wounded,’ a soldier aided, another directing, ‘Right over here.’ He continued, “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”_

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Tony sighed.

“You’d better not be punished,” Pepper said with a glare.

_“That won’t be necessary,” he answered, looking at the numbers he had retrieved._

_They shared a small smile, and he responded, “Yes, sir.”_

_“Faith, huh?” Phillips questioned as he strode around Peggy._

_She stepped up to observe Steve, and then meet his eyes. “You’re late.”_

_He reached into his pocket and pulled out the transponder she had given him, a shot having torn through a portion. “Couldn’t call my ride,” he defended. She glanced at the item before meeting his gaze again._

_“Hey!” Bucky yelled, calling the group’s attention. He looked back to Steve. “Let’s hear it for Captain America.”_

_Triumphant cheering resounded around them, pats extended and hats raised._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) ‘Zundung’ is German for ‘ignition’.


	7. Goading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tribulations at the Starting Line of Steve’s career.

_“I am honoured to present this medal for valour to my personal friend… Captain America!” Senator Brandt announced, the hand raised to rest over his heart swept behind as he turned to the curtained back of the stage._

‘Of course,’ Tony mouthed with a roll of his eyes as Thor grinned proudly and Loki raised an eyebrow.

_Behind the dark podium he glanced back at the red and white striped drapes before beckoning again, “Captain America,” his stance flanked by guards and soldiers standing at attention._

Clint smirked as Tony tilted his head.

_A crowd of uniformed and well-dressed men and women sat looking on wonderingly. A couple of reporters knelt with notepads in hand as another stood in wait, three flash and two recording cameras set on tripods. “Captain, that’s your cue,” he coaxed with a smile._

_His assistant entered shaking his head in apology, leaning close to whisper excuses into his ear. One of the veterans in the crowd muttered to his companion in belief of the man to be the Captain, “I thought he’d be taller.”_

Tony snorted a laugh as Loki slow-clapped, Steve shrugging.

_Blimps flew through the cloudy sky behind Big Ben, over cobblestone streets bearing poles with the Union Jack displayed, and buses and cars rolling past pedestrians. The Daily Mail read ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA TO RECEIVE MEDAL FOR VALOUR’ as the vehicles beeped, driving past cyclists, while underground Morse code drilled out a constant stream of messages as a gathering of Allies discussed the threat of HYDRA._

_A map of the world was hung upon the far wall of the brick-enclosed space, a wide round table in the center of the uniformed men and women displaying Europe, all of the bases, defenses, and troops marked. A bell trilled at incoming transmissions as Steve leaned over a similar map rolled out over a desk, Peggy sitting on the edge overlooking as he marked locations with a pencil. He elucidated, “The fifth one was here in Poland, right near the Baltic. And the sixth one was…about here – thirty- forty miles west of the Maginot Line._

_“I just got a quick look,” he defended as the estimation of Schmidt’s bases of operation was whisked from the surface by the man standing alongside._

_“Well, nobody’s perfect,” she sighed, getting to her feet before walking away with a smirk._

_He offered a small smile in response, then tossed the writing utensil to the table and turned to follow._

“Good, someone said it – can’t have you having a big head,” Tony nodded, Steve piping, ‘Me?’ incredulously to chuckling.

_“These are the weapon factories we know about,” Phillips explained as he approached the center map, her beside as Steve moved between them. At several points there were small models of structures under tall flags, a black ‘H’ bold on a white circle bordered in red._

_“Sergeant Barnes said that HYDRA shipped all the parts to another facility that isn’t on this map,” Steve reported._

_He ordered as he strode away, “Agent Carter, coordinate with MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main HYDRA base.”_

_“What about us?” she asked, trailing with Steve a step behind._

_“We are gonna set a fire under Johann Schmidt’s ass,” he asserted, whipping the proffered information from a blonde’s hand. “What d’ya say, Rogers? It’s your map – you think you can wipe HYDRA off of it?”_

_Peggy’s lips parted before she closed them again, Steve turning back to assess the assignment and then facing him to proclaim, “Yes, sir. I’ll need a team.”_

_“We’re already putting together the best men.”_

_“With all due respect, sir,” the Captain countered, “so am I.”_

“You rebel, you,” Clint approved, the advantage of loyalty and shared experience well-defined.

_A glass mug sloshing beer was firmly set onto the surface of a wooden table as Dugan began, “So, let’s get this straight,” the bar atmosphere noisy and comfortable surrounding them._

_“We barely got out of there alive and you want us to go back?” Gabe interrogated from his left, James thoughtful with lips pursed on his right._

_Steve sat relaxed across the close table, answering, “Pretty much,” as Jim drank._

_“Sounds rather…fun, actually,” James said._

_Jim belched, agreeing, “I’m in.”_

_Dernier declared vehemently, “Moi je combattrai jusqu’à ce que l’dernier de ces bâtards soit mort, enchaîné, ou bien pleure comme un p’tit bébé!”_

_“J’espère tous les trois,” Gabe inserted._

_He laughed, cheering, “Moi aussi!”(*)_

_They shook hands, grinning and chuckling, before Gabe restated at the blank looks of the others, gesturing between them, “We’re in.”_

_Steve displayed an amused expression before turning his gaze back onto Dugan with a raised eyebrow. “Hell, I’ll always fight-” he returned, mug in hand, “-but you gotta do one thing for me.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_He drained the alcohol and sighed, slamming the glass down and saying, “Open a tab.”_

_They laughed as Steve allowed a huff of hilarity as he stood, collecting some of the empties and heading to the bar to a ‘Well, that was easy,’ from the table._

_“‘nother round,” he requested, the bartender asking in wonder with a white rag thrown over his shoulder,_

_“Where‘re they puttin’ all this stuff?”_

_The man on the piano started another song, the men singing in chorus in recognition, ‘There is~ a tavern in the town…’_

_“See? I told you,” Bucky stated from his seat at the bar, Steve circling around to sit beside. “They were all idiots.” He drank from the small glass lifted to his lips._

Loki nodded in remembrance of the number of quests he, the Warriors Three, and Sif had been dragged upon simply at Thor’s urging.

_“How ‘bout you? You ready to follow ‘Captain America’ into the jaws of death?”_

_“Hell no,” he said, then announced, “The little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight – I’m following him.” He smiled as he took another sip, Steve giving a nod to the tender for a drink. “But you’re keeping the outfit, right?” he ribbed._

_He lifted his gaze with a smile and turned to look back at the poster behind. “You know what?” His image saluted, emblazoned, ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA, ON TOUR; London, Bristol, Manchester, ALLIED BASES IN EUROPE & NORTH AFRICA’. A banner across the breadth declared, ‘TOUR CANCELLED Until Further Notice’. “It’s kind of growing on me.”_

_The group gathered around the table continued singing with beers on the table and in hand, “…And remember that the best of friends must part, must part,” before motion stalled and mugs were held in suspension, the next line trailing off, ‘Adieu, adieu…’_

_Bucky leaned back to peer through the crowd as Steve turned as well at the absence of vocals to the piano, the two standing as Peggy was revealed. Stares were fixed upon her, curves clad in scarlet as her dress hung cut at the knee, sleeves three-quartered and neckline a V._

Tony whistled lightly, Pepper flicking his ear and receiving a wince.

_“Captain,” she greeted, approaching with heels clacking on the tile._

_“Agent Carter,” he nodded, Bucky’s eyes falling down her form and dragging back up before he met her gaze with a ‘Ma’am.’_

_“Howard has some equipment for you to try,” she justified, attention on Steve. “Tomorrow morning?”_

_“Sounds good.”_

Natasha smiled slightly at the move, acknowledging, _‘She tempts and feels out the terrain before going after what she wants.’_

_She faced the sound of the singing having resumed, Steve exhaling heavily as he regarded her form. Bucky noted his lack of praise and lowered his eyes._

_She turned back to observe, “I see your top squad is prepping for duty.”_

_“You don’t like music?” Bucky queried._

Bruce hummed at his insertion.

_“I do, actually,” she responded, stare fixed upon Steve. “I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.”_

_“Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky scoffed charmingly._

Natasha shook her head in entertainment.

_She maintained eye contact with Steve for a beat, then said, “The right partner.”_

Pepper smiled.

_She reminded, “0800, Captain,” and then strode confidently away._

_“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be there,” he replied, hands in his pockets as he glanced down._

_Bucky ogled her as she exited with brows furrowed before turning back and uttering with a shrug, “I’m invisible.” Steve considered him. “I-I’m turning into you. This- I-It’s like a horrible dream,” he conceded, biting his lip and shaking his head._

_“Don’t take it so hard,” Steve comforted with a couple of pats on the shoulder. “Maybe she’s got a friend.” Bucky shook his head again as they retook their seats._

The group displayed expressions of amusement at the switch. Steve permitted a bittersweet smile at the interaction.

_Howard maneuvered a pair of delicate tongs to remove the miniscule azure bead from the top of the device Steve had relieved from the HYDRA compound, relaying in curiosity, “Emission signature is unusual – alpha and beta ray neutral.” Behind the glass another scientist leaned into the viewing area at his side, Howard adding in jibe with his hands poised on the levers of the machinery, “Though I doubt Rogers picked up on that.”_

Tony raised an eyebrow at the evidence juxtaposing what he knew of his father’s opinion of the Captain as Loki glanced to Steve, but the blond exhibited no distress at the comment. The dark haired god frowned.

_The other exhaled laughter while Howard smirked, their attention returning to the power source as he said, “Seems harmless enough.” He moved the mechanism of his left hand so the tips encroached on the ends of the other. “Hard to see what all the fuss is about.”_

_Contact was made to a sharp buzz as the bead glowed, azure circling before a blast shot outwards and shattered the viewing pane, the scientist tossed to the side as Howard was thrown back._

The occupants of the room jumped at the feedback.

_The former scrambled to brace himself against the wall as he shook his head, Howard propping himself onto his elbows, dishevelled and splayed over shards of glass, as he grunted._

_Others darted to aid him as he commanded, “Write that down.”_

Tony was torn between pride and dismay at the similarities between them, then furrowed his brow and grit his teeth, deriding the former emotion, _‘Still trying to get him to love me.’_

_Steve strode through a sparingly lit work area to round shelving full of binders behind a seated, uniformed blonde. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Mr. Stark,” he informed as he folded his hands behind his back._

_“He’s in with Colonel Phillips,” she answered dismissively, leant back from the typewriter on the desk and reading from within where The Stars and Stripes reported, ‘400 PRISONERS LIBERATED,’ on the front page of the newspaper. He nodded and glanced around the area at the delay, the woman casting her gaze to him briefly before doing a double-take in recognition. She then welcomed enticingly, “Of course, you’re welcome to wait.”_

Loki pursed his lips at the reality of Murphy’s Law; Agent Carter was most likely in the vicinity.

_He nodded with an awkward smile and pointed to the desk along the wall adjacent, stepping over to it. She snapped the pages closed and swiveled her chair to face him as she folded it in half._

_“I, uh, read about what you did,” she began playfully with a smile, displaying what remained visible of the front page for a second._

_“Oh, the- yeah,” he replied, gesturing to the same article and nodding humbly. “Well, that’s- you know,” his eyes darted away, “Just doing what needed to be done.”_

Thor nudged him, delighted, as Steve sank back into the couch and raised a hand to shield his eyes. Loki observed the action and smirked smugly.

_“Sounded like more than that,” she disputed, eyebrow raised and one knee over the other, her body elongated in profile. “You saved nearly four-hundred men.”_

_He sat in awkward silence for a moment with a half-smile, her eyes averting coyly to the floor as she flexed a foot before pointing it again and meeting his stare. He attempted to divert the attention, gesticulating vaguely, “Really, it’s not a big deal.”_

_She stood primly and sauntered forward, enunciating, “Tell that to their wives.”_

“Oh damn,” Tony drawled ominously.

_He inhaled and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Uh,” he stuttered, looking up to the ceiling as she neared, “I don’t think they were all married.”_

_“You’re a hero,” she pronounced from before him._

_“Well, that, you know- that depends on the definition, really,” he excused, scratching his head with furrowed brows._

Clint attempted to muffle his chortling at Steve’s obvious humiliation in the middle of them all.

_She gripped his tie and uttered lowly, “The women of America, they owe you their thanks,” his eyes looking up to hers. “And, uh,” she cast her eyes to those gathered around the far wall with their backs to them as she pulled him to his feet and behind the cover of the shelving, “seeing as they’re not here…” She grabbed a lapel with her other hand and tugged him forward into a kiss, hand raising to his cheek as their eyes closed and his hands rose to her arms._

_Heels clacked as Peggy strode into the room and rounded the corner-_

Loki sighed as Bruce removed his glasses to occupy himself with wiping the lenses clean, Tony grimacing in sympathy.

_-staring for a minute before propping her hands onto her hips and shouting, “Captain!” as the blonde’s arms rose to encircle the nape of his neck and his, her waist._

_His hands flew from all contact as he turned, the woman stepping back and looking away as Peggy stated shortly, “We’re ready for you, if you’re not otherwise occupied.”_

“How the hell’d you recover from that?” Clint questioned.

“Uh, she found a way to let off some steam…” he answered hesitantly.

“Sounds like it’ll be good,” Tony replied with a wink.

_She spun, irate, and started walking as Steve wiped his lips and ran after her, the other with fair hair straightening her uniform._

_“Agent Carter, wait,” he implored, hurrying to tail her while casting an abrupt look back, fiercely rubbing his mouth again._

_“Looks like finding a partner wasn’t that hard after all,” she declared._

_“Peggy, that’s not what you thought it was,” he tried with palms raised before fixing his tie._

_“I didn’t think anything, Captain. Not one thing. You always wanted to be a soldier and now you are – just like all the rest.”_

“Burn.”

_“Well what about you and Stark?” he combated, slowing to a halt. “How do I know you two haven’t been- fondue-ing?”_

Tony spit out a laugh as Clint choked on his own, Steve flushing.

“We’re going to bring up fondue every. Chance. We. Get. Oh my god,” Tony wheezed, Pepper giggling.

_She turned to look over her shoulder with a quizzical brow, his expression the picture of uprightness, and she let escape a huff through clenched teeth as she rolled her eyes and proclaimed, “You still don’t know a bloody thing about women.”_

_His brow furrowed in confusion._

Natasha just shook her head.

_“Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend,” Howard explained._

_“Really? I didn’t think-”_

_“-nor should you, pal.” He and Steve walked into the lab and weaved between the workbenches with others bent over intricate pieces of tech, Howard imparting, “The moment you think you know what’s going on in a woman’s head is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked.”_

Tony resisted nodding in agreement, though Clint did so to Natasha’s raised eyebrow. He smirked in response.

_“Me, I concentrate on work, which at the moment is about making sure you and your men don’t get killed.” He circled to a table and lifted a hand out of his pants pocket to touch and display a layer of material. “Carbon polymer – should withstand your average German bayonet, although… HYDRA’s not going to attack you with a pocketknife.”_

“Encouraging,” Bruce stated.

_He sidestepped to pat the shield the Captain bore on stage and against Schmidt, saying, “Now, I hear, you’re kinda attached?”_

_“It’s handier than you might think,” he justified, tapping it fondly on his way past._

_“I took the liberty of coming up with some options,” he answered. On the bench between them lay varying shapes of shields; a thick rectangular one sported a view pane along the top, and an ovular one had spikes concentrated in the center. “This one’s fun-” Howard said, “-she’s been fitted with electrical relays that allow you to-”_

_“What about this one?” Steve interrupted, bending down to grasp the wide disc that had caught his eye beneath the bench._

_“No no, that’s a prototype,” he waved down._

_“What’s it made of?” he asked, the circle held with mystification between his hands._

_Howard placed a hand lightly on the edge of the table and replied, “Vibranium.” Steve flipped it, the air surrounding resounding. “It’s stronger than steel and a third of the weight.” She was slid onto his left forearm. “It’s completely. Vibration. Absorbent.”_

_He hefted her gently and ran his fingers along the edge, questioning, “How come it’s not standard issue?”_

_“That’s the rarest metal on Earth – what you’re holding there, that’s all we got,” he explained to Steve’s awe._

_“You quite finished, Mr. Stark?” Peggy asked as she entered confidently. “I’m sure the Captain has some unfinished business.”_

_He turned to her with a smile, posing, “What do you think?” as he held the shield before him._

_She met his gaze before turning to the surface beside and reaching down to grab one of the handguns on display. She aimed it at him and fired four rounds, the bullets falling to the floor as he ducked behind and the material reverberated at the impact._

The occupants of the room stared in amazed silence as Steve smiled in recollection, Loki attempting fervently to lessen his grin at the course of action.

_He peeked cautiously above the rim as Howard slowly turned back from his recoil and lowered the forearm protecting his face, the two gaping as she released a satisfied sigh and smiled brightly. “Yes, I think it works,” she answered._

_She replaced the gun and lifted her chin to stride towards and past him, Steve stepping out of her way as he stared and Howard came to his side._

_The two stared at her back with mouths parted as they put their hands into their pockets, Steve retrieving a piece of lined paper from his and handing it over with a dull, “I had some ideas about the uniform.”_

_“Whatever you want, pal,” he conceded, reaching mechanically to accept it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Jacques and Gabe’s French conversation:
> 
> (Jacques) “I will fight until the last of these bastards is dead, chained, or cries like a little baby!”  
> (Gabe) “I hope all three.”  
> (Jacques) “Me too!”


	8. Tempestuous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Howling Commandoes are in action, and emotional reactions cause attachment and separation within the group.

_A dark gloved hand sheathed a long-barrelled rifle into a holster on the side of a motorcycle, and then cocked a handgun before putting it at a hip. A wide circular shield painted with red and white bands around a bright star on navy was slung onto a back._

“Here we go,” Tony announced.

_Steve slammed open a barred pair of double doors donning a thick blue outfit, hard cowl over his head reaching under his eyes with an ‘A’ in white on the front. He drew a firearm from the holster strapped around his thigh while guarding his torso with his shield, shooting forward with narrowed eyes as James, Bucky, Dugan, and Gabe fired from his flanks. They strode into the worn building with cracked windows as the Captain confidently lowered his shield, his gun his primary weapon, star and stripes darkly emblazoned down the padding of his chest._

_He knocked down the gun of a HYDRA soldier moving to rush him in the interior, the man yelling as he was shoved back with the face of the shield before Steve hopped to throw aside another opponent with a powerful swing outward._

_James backed hurriedly out the front doors as he shot, Dugan, Gabe, Jim, and Dernier running past before Steve crashed his bike through a windowpane in the forefront of a blinding explosion. The engine roared as he landed and the group cleared, fire behind them as the structure collapsed in great plumes of smoke. He glanced back at the victory before turning away with a smirk._

_In the dark of night with only the fiery wreckage as illumination, a grey V16 Coupé rolled to a stop with the Red Skull in the driver’s seat. Factories were ruined and smoldering over the top of his windshield, the larger debris piled while fragments flew on the air. He bared his teeth as he flexed his fingers before clenching them on the steering wheel._

“Trademark Captain America,” Clint offered with a smirk. 

Pepper rolled her eyes and turned to face Steve, reassuring, “All the stories and performances you presented became a reality.”

“Thanks,” he replied in sincerity.

_A HYDRA flag and factory model were removed from the map in the underground Ally base, banner offered out for Peggy to pluck and insert into the box to the side with half a dozen others as they planned through the night._

He allowed a small smile to himself at her efforts alongside his own.

_Steve walked warily through a snow dusted wood with soldiers at his back, beckoning them forward when he paused before angling to the left. He halted to turn back with sparse flora frozen behind, looking around in unease before catching sight of something and scrambling to remove his shield from his arm and whip it upwards._

_The disc spun to knock a HYDRA agent from a tree branch above, his form falling with a grunt to land prone on the ground to the whirling of the others in surprise. Steve caught and replaced his shield on his forearm._

_A covered truck exploded to the loss of supplies as a landmine went off, a brief flash in the middle of a shower of dirt as Steve dashed through the trees. He lifted his shield for a second to protect his head as Dugan moved with him, gun in hand and firing as Gabe caught up and shot alongside with an automatic._

_Jim whistled distinctly from his cover beside a road and flashed a flashlight as vehicles approached, James turning to Dernier. The Frenchman darted out with a device cradled in hand to James, Dugan, and Gabe standing, Steve and Bucky advancing from behind with mouths open._

_He adjusted his hat as he ran just before crouching to the road’s surface and rolling to lie on his back as a tank drove over him, lifting the mechanism with blinking red light to secure it to the underside between the tires. It passed to him getting to his feet and plugging his ears with his fingers, the vehicle blasting apart._

_He splayed his hands with a smile and clapped them together to the approving laughter of Dugan._

Loki tilted his head at the familiar communication within the group, all of the men obviously trusting of one another’s skill set. The Avengers functioned in the same way, as well as Thor, the Warriors Three, and Sif; each was a united band thought of as one force, only able to succeed over grandiose obstacles through their internal reliance and harmony. He did not understand how they could think to possess the absolute knowledge of one another in order to trust in such matters.

_Peggy and Phillips sat in a theatre as a projector rolled a reel of film to show the Howling Commandos in shades of grey, four standing at rest as Steve and Bucky sat in the back of a truck and planned an attack. The Captain flipped open his compass to point into the distance before referring to the large map on his lap, a photo of Peggy inserted into the cover. He clicked it closed with his thumb as he glanced at the camera, Peggy’s wide eyes fixed on the screen before Phillips glanced over to her and she met his gaze._

_They faced the images again as Steve turned from the camera, leading his troop._

Thor grinned and elbowed Steve lightly, the latter blond shrugging and wondering if the picture was ever even recovered.

_A lens captured him picking through the rubble before it moved over a fire, then a HYDRA agent aiming down at the blond. Bucky laid on the edge of an overhang, faint daylight glinting off of the scope of the sniper rifle held in hand with elbows propped on the ground, and shot the soldier in the head. He crumpled to Steve’s note as Bucky readied the weapon for another shot, and the Captain saluted him in thanks._

Natasha met Clint’s gaze as they drew a parallel to their own cover of one another on the field, and the melee versus ranged contact.

_Peggy removed a pin adorned with HYDRA’s ‘H’ from the map on the wall._

“You’re really cleaning up.”

_Steve leaped through the air over the battlefield swathed in darkness, gunfire sounding in the background as he landed and stood firm to punch a man in the abdomen with the rim of his shield, then swipe another with the face of her to throw him away._

_He hurled his shield as an eruption of fire detonated behind him, the defense spinning forward._

“Shame we can’t capture any of these frames for Coulson,” Clint remarked.

“I’d love to get his reaction – put it up on the fridge,” Tony said with a laugh.

_He jumped onto the roof of a vehicle to raise his shield overhead, slamming the side of her down to break the lock on the side of the hatched door. He pulled it open to fall to one knee and drag the soldier out by the shoulder of his clothes, the man screaming as he was flung off the side. James ran to sidestep and toss an item up into the Captain’s hand, who dropped it in and shut the door._

_He jogged to bound off the rim of the tank as blasts tore through the metal, legs pumping through the air as he flew._

“You should really be more careful,” Pepper interjected. “It seems you’re always relying on being able to jump away at the last minute.”

“It works okay,” Steve countered, “I know my limit. And I can’t expect to control everything in a plan, so knowing that I have to keep moving makes more sense than reacting out of left field.”

“You know _some_ of your limits,” Loki corrected. “Adapting is all well and good, but planning dozens of offensive attacks with the thought that you can just narrowly leap out of the way of the resulting explosions – each and every time – is baiting fate.”

_Nevermind that, as all this has shown,_ Natasha thought, _he forces himself to take on more than he should. We’re going to have to keep an eye on his lead – can’t have him giving himself more to deal with as the rest of us are inactive._

Pepper looked over the assembled group, and thought that most had this problem; they continued to test their limits even when experiencing injury and a nearness to death. She breathed out slowly and settled further back onto Tony.

_“You are failing!” Schmidt charged, eyes glinting over crimson skin. “We are close to an offensive that will shake the planet,” he said with an angered gesture, stepping from Zola over the smoking remains of a factory, “yet we are continually delayed because you cannot outwit a simpleton with a shield!”_

_“This is hardly my area of expertise,” he defended, rushing around to stand in front of him. “I-I merely develop the weapons – I-I-I cannot fire them,” he elaborated with a helpless gesticulation of his hands._

_“Finish your mission, Doctor, before the American finishes his,” the Red Skull warned, Zola’s expression morphing into one of worry at the realization of the Captain’s goals._

_“Sir!”_

_A couple of agents nudged forward a bruised and dishevelled survivor with their heavy guns, the male immediately stating, “I’m sorry, Herr Schmidt. We fought to the last man.”_

_Zola closed his eyes in dismay and turned away as Schmidt drew his handgun._

_“Evidently not.”_

_The whir of a laser sounded._

“Getting testy now, isn’t he?”

_James lowered the pair of binoculars from his eyes as the group of seven stood on the rocky precipice of a mountain, insubstantial clouds overhead and pale flurries covering all visible surfaces. Jim crouched with a pair of headphones held to one ear as he fiddled with the knobs on a radio, attempting to receive a clear signal for Gabe. A cable ran from the face behind them into the distance._

_“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?” Bucky asked._

_“Yeah, and I threw up?” Steve replied in question._

_The line stretched down over a length of train tracks far below._

_“This isn’t payback, is it?” he wondered in trepidation._

_“Now why would I do that?”_

“Even back in the day SHIELD was insane,” Clint snorted, crossing his arms at the approach the small group was taking.

“What is it they are going to do?” Thor asked.

“Hang off of the cable and swing onto the train as it passes,” Bruce explained.

Thor furrowed his brows. “And if they miss, they will hit the mountain?”

“Looks like it,” Tony answered.

_“We were right – Dr. Zola’s on the train,” Gabe announced. The two turned to him. “HYDRA dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle.” He held one of the earphones to his left ear as Jim continued on with a slimmer headset. “Wherever he’s going, they must need him bad.”_

_Steve donned his helmet as the two turned away, Gabe lowering the earpieces as Dernier handed a bundle of straps and bars to Bucky._

_James gazed through the binoculars again to view the train’s progress around a bend, remarking with urgency, “Let’s get going, because they’re moving like the devil.”_

_“We only got about a ten-second window,” Steve reminded with a strap looped around the taut cable to lead down to a ring, upon which hung a horizontal bar. Dernier stood at his side with finger raised. “You miss that window,” he shook his head as he tightened his grip on the ends of the bar, “we’re bugs on a windshield.”_

_James added with a smirk, “Mind the gap.”_

“And there’s also that,” Tony added.

“Why would you take such a risk? Is there no other way?” Thor questioned in concern. “You’re all only mortal.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Loki interrupted, rolling his eyes. “You once flew through a system of caverns to knock out a Stone Giant’s leg.”

“You said he had a weak knee.”

“There were a dozen other alternatives. Do you even realize what the chances were of you, darting about with Mjolnir in such an enclosed space, slamming into a stalagmite?”

“It allowed all of you to quickly surround him unnoticed.”

“You also invented bilgesnipe-riding.”

Thor paused before defending, “That one was after a party of many days.” 

“What’s bilgesnipe-riding?” Bruce wondered.

“Similar to your ancient tradition of bull-leaping,” Loki said.

“Wasn’t that when someone charged a bull, grabbed its horns, and somersaulted over its back?” Natasha expounded with a raised eyebrow.

“How could you have possibly come across that information?” Tony interrogated.

“It’s not really a parallel anyways,” Clint determined.

“The first was,” Loki insisted. “You should all work out an acceptable margin of risk for your ventures.”

_“Better get moving, bugs,” Dugan prodded, Steve’s arms and shoulders squirming._

_“Maintenant!” Dernier shouted, arm swinging down in signal to Steve’s instant kicking from the ledge to zip line across. The cord bounded at the weight as he reeled down the slope, an echo of Dernier repeating the command to Bucky’s copying the travel. Dernier glanced back with his hand raised as he counted, shouting again, Gabe following. The team continued to stream through the air beneath the line as, below, the targeted train rushed around the bend of the snow-covered, rocky range._

_Smooth, dark paneling covered the surface of the locomotive as faint smoke issued from the engine car, the cord running to the mountains in the distance adjacent the tracks. The roof came up under Steve’s feet, and he let go of the bar to drop onto the carriage. He instantly lay low to lessen resistance against him as Bucky landed behind into a deep crouch, and then Gabe._

“Wait, was that the end of the montage?” Tony asked.

“Your actual career was given the same block of time as your tours,” Bruce announced.

_The Captain led as the three swiftly moved forward, torsos hunched in wariness at the precarious speed battering, arms buffering their sides for balance. Steve came to a ladder that curved down over the side, and he descended the metal bars; Bucky knelt above and cast his gaze from side to side at their surroundings, and Gabe dropped to a knee further back to brace a semi-automatic under his shoulder._

_The door to the lustrous, metal plated compartment slid open to Steve, with handgun drawn, and Bucky entering, the biting wind whistling through the frame before the brunet closed it. He held his rifle, previously slung across his back, with barrel pointed forward, though the car was empty alongside its rattling shelves of cargo. Through the aisles they crept, one on each side, Steve’s gaze intent on the open passage into the next carriage as Bucky glanced behind._

_His walk grew confident as Steve’s shoulders eased, and the latter stopped upon gleaning the emptiness of the other compartment, looking back. Bucky loitered as he inspected the load around him as Steve continued through, shield and firearm dutifully gripped, before the doors at the ends of the cars abruptly slid shut. Steve whirled around to see Bucky through the round windowpane, still in the other carriage, two doors and a measure of connecting tunnel betwixt._

_Bucky’s eyes widened as he spun to fire at the soldier seen emerging from the shadows at the other end, rounds muffled as the Captain strived to forcefully open the door for a second, before turning back to his own car upon the whir of a charge to see a HYDRA agent bearing two sets of large barreled guns. He frantically shot his handgun before darting behind some of the containers along the wall to his left and rolling to curl against the wall, a blast of azure flying past._

“It’s never easy.”

_Zola grabbed the microphone in front of him, shouting, “Stop him! Fire again!” as he viewed the conflict through a streamed security feed._

“Didn’t you say he was captured?” Bruce questioned in annoyance.

“He will be, here,” Natasha answered.

_Bucky fired his semi-automatic through the aisle, killing his opponent, before kneeling behind the cases stacked against the wall to his right. He jerked as bullets shot into the corner just above his head, hastily correcting the jammed magazine, and then stood to fire at the two agents from around the side of his cover, and over it._

_Steve continued firing fruitlessly at the armoured agent in front of him, ducking back down and raising his shield as a second beam soared through the air to tear through the metal of the back of the carriage. He ran out as the other charged the weapon, grabbing the metal contraption attached to the ceiling for moving parts of the weighted load and hanging to slide across the distance between the two. He braced his shield to deflect the next blast before swinging to kick him in the chest, landing on his feet as the other landed on his back and slamming his shield onto his head._

“Bam.”

_An agent crept cautiously down the far aisle of the carriage as Bucky gripped his handgun, stiffly lurching to shoot left-handed, arm outstretched as he sidestepped across to the cases on the other side for an improved vantage point. He squatted low and switched his gun to his right hand._

_Steve knelt by his felled opponent to make use of his left gun, firing on the door at the end of the compartment. It blast off its hinges as he dropped the weapon and ran towards the opening, the success captured on screen as Zola gaped and his fingers hovered around the microphone._

_Bucky let off further rounds as the other retreated to the reverse side of the aisle, returning fire as Steve rushed over the connection and to the door, noting Bucky’s position in the corner. The brunet drew back with a frustrated ‘ah’, divest of bullets, as Steve turned into the opposite corner and lifted his own firearm. Bucky breathed deeply through his nose as he sweat in his seat, before Steve elbowed the button behind his arm and the door slid open, nodding to indicate his own gun as Bucky nonverbally agreed._

_He tossed his gun to the other before running into the carriage and slamming his shield against the end of one of the shelved containers with a yell. The agent moved out of the way, into the open aisle, and Bucky shot him in the head._

_He stood to stop by his side, defending, “I had him on the ropes.”_

_“I know you did,” the blond responded. Suddenly, the whir of a charge sounded and they spun to the open doorway, the agent bearing two guns firing a blast as Steve screamed, “Get down!” shoving Bucky to the floor. He raised his shield for the beam to impact, thrown backwards._

_“Fire again!” Zola shouted._

Loki focused on being still as the confrontation continued, the others’ expressions at Steve’s reaction to Bucky being recovered indicating the loss of the man. Each attack might be the one to end him. He waited for the circumstances of his death to be revealed.

_The attack had been deflected to rip a section of the wall away, Bucky moving on his knees in the wind to grip his gun and scramble for the shield that had dropped. Zola’s voice sounded again over the P.A. system, “Kill him – now!” as Steve started to shift from his prone position on his stomach._

The group remained tense as they watched the proceedings, Steve’s eyes closed as the audio echoed his memory.

_Bucky stood, firing from behind the shield as he approached, before the gun charged again and a beam knocked him flying out of the carriage._

They all froze, the scene continuing despite their trepidation.

_Steve snarled as he lunged to his feet, snatching the shield from the floor where she had once again fallen into his hands and hurling her to knock the agent away to land unconscious on his back._

_He tore off his cowl as he turned to slam into the edge of the tear in the carriage, looking out and calling desperately, “Bucky!”_

_The other was hanging in the fierce airstream from a rail on the inside of the overturned wall, Steve immediately swinging his body out to latch onto the one adjacent and begin sidling to him._

Hope was warring with concentrated fear in five of those possessing knowledge of Bucky’s death, despite this understanding, as Steve drowned in despair. Loki wanted the man to be pulled back into the carriage, to die in any other way than to unwillingly fall, as Thor’s eyes were bound to the screen, lost in another time, before another display, watching and yet remembering a terrified blond reaching for a precariously dangling brunet.

_“Hang on!” he urged as he moved, the metal creaking as the surface rattled against the side of the train and one of the middle supports of the rail gave, Bucky’s right arm flailing before he managed to regain his grip. “Grab my hand!” Steve pleaded, hand outstretched._

_The end of the bar snapped off as Steve cried out, “No!” pitching forward to reach for him. Bucky stretched up just as the other end detached, and he fell down fighting into the fissures of the mountain range with a bellow._

_Steve clutched his handhold, staring down at all of the ice and the snow-covered, winding river. He turned his face back into the metal surface as his shoulders hunched, the wind tossing his hair as the train continued to run on over the bridge._

Loki measured his inhale and exhale as he blinked furiously, thinking, _I’m not going to cry. Thor can, the blubbering child – Steven’s his friend, not mine,_ as the next scene blurred before him.

_Gabe crashed through one of the glass panes roofing the control car to Zola’s surprised jolt, the doctor scurrying back to the side of the man handling the passage at the muzzle of the semi-automatic._

“Stop it, just- Pause it for a second, Jarvis,” Pepper requested, brushing away one of the tear trails that had fallen over her cheeks. Tony shifted to sit upright as she stood to move around Bruce, who sidled awkwardly closer to Tony to allow her to take his place beside Steve. The blond opened his dry eyes to meet her sympathetic gaze, consenting to an embrace though he did not attempt to offer her a reassuring smile after she had withdrawn. Thor’s fingers twitched as he cried, looking between Steve and Loki before slowly enveloping Steve in a fierce hug. Natasha surveyed everyone as Clint glanced to Loki, whose reaction was carved of composure.

Steve ignored the grounding effect of Thor’s support and gently pushed him away, drawing a knee to his chest and hollowly advising, “Let’s just finish this.”

His eyes stared straight ahead.


	9. Surge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief continues to permeate the group at Steve’s loss, as the SSR uncovers Schmidt’s plan and strikes his last HYDRA hideout.

_Dark vehicles drove past the guarded building, uniformed men armed as newspaper stands advertised the front page print of ‘War Rages in Europe, LONDON BURNING’. In a dimly lit room, a heavy metal door with a small, slit window for a pair of eyes was held open, Zola entering slowly, dishevelled and stripped of his suit except for the shirt and pants. Zola stared into the space before he realised he was being handed his glasses by the officer behind him and took them._

_He put the pair of spectacles on as the man left, pulling the door firmly shut behind him, fixing the ear pieces as he stared at the faucet on one wall that had let a drop of water fall. He turned to walk some of the length of the room, considering the long window connecting to a darkened place of observation and then slowing to a stop at the sight of the long stretcher-like table. His eyes lowered, and he caught sight of a few drops of blood on the concrete floor._

Distraught and disoriented after the previous heart-wrenching scene, some of those in the room felt sadistically gladdened at the prospect of Zola being tortured, him being one of the indirect causes of Bucky’s passing and therefore Steve’s anguish.

_He leaned in, morbidly curious and fearful, only to jerk upright and turn around at the noise of the door being opened again, the officer opening the door for Colonel Phillips to enter carrying a tray with a piece of paper hanging from one hand underneath. The door was shut behind as he commanded, “Sit down,” placing the tray on the surface of the desk that Zola had rounded in distraction. On the tray was a plate holding a piece of steak, a couple of boiled potatoes, and three pieces of broccoli, a knife and fork, salt and pepper shakers, and glass of milk alongside._

_He slipped the piece of paper into his other hand as Zola sat across from him and asked, “What is this?”_

_“Steak.”_

_“What is in it?” he continued softly._

_Phillips gazed at him and answered, “Cow,” as he lowered himself down onto the opposite chair._

Natasha, Clint, and Loki discerned the approach, the offering and suspicion surrounding it disarming Zola and completely exposing the reality of the extent of control the Colonel had over his future.

_He huffed a mocking smile and said, “Doctor, do you realise how difficult it is to get a hold of a prime cut like that out here?”_

_“Hm, I don’t eat meat,” he responded, leaning back in pretended ease. The sole light in the room was placed in the ceiling above him and shone down._

_“Why not?” he questioned with a frown._

_“It disagrees with me,” Zola defended tersely._

_“How about cyanide – does that give you the rumbly tummy too?” he drawled. Zola smirked without amusement._

The discomfort the Doctor had shown with Schmidt’s governing foretold of this unwillingness to sacrifice himself for the cause. Though this was unknown to Phillips, he was acting on the assumption that Schmidt’s right-hand, if not having already killed himself, then was willing and intelligent enough to come to an agreement with the Allies.

_“Every HYDRA agent that we’ve tried to take alive has crunched a little pill before we can stop him. But not you,” he explained while pulling the tray towards himself and lifting the knife and fork to take in hand. He cut off a strip of the steak, to Zola’s twisting of his lips. “So, here is my brilliant theory–” he shifted the position of the glass to the further corner and ate the piece of meat, “you want to live.”_

_He smiled slightly and said, “You’re trying to intimidate me, Colonel.”_

_“I bought you dinner,” he jeered seriously._

With his confidence and control of the conversation, it was obvious to those viewing that Phillips had already secured the end result of the power play.

_After a second, he slid the paper around his meal to lie in front of the other._

_Zola’s eyes widened and he leaned over the page, hand keeping it in place as he read slowly, “‘Given the valuable information he has provided, and in exchange for his full cooperation, Dr. Zola is being remanded to Switzerland’?”_

_“I sent that message to Washington this morning,” Phillips explained as he added more spice to the meat, “of course it was encoded.” He cut a bit of potato as his tongue moved to clean his teeth, leisurely implying, “You guys haven’t broken those codes, have you? That would be awkward.”_

Tony cracked a smirk at the declaration, and Phillips’ degrading of Zola’s position.

_“Schmidt will know this is a lie,” he countered quickly._

_“He’s going to kill you anyway, Doc.” Zola’s chin trembled. “You’re a liability.”_

The fact that the Doctor knew it just let him play right into the Colonel’s hands.

_“You know more about Schmidt than anyone. And, the last guy you cost us was Captain Rogers’ closest friend so I wouldn’t count on the very best of protection.”_

Thor nodded stiffly, entertaining the thought of the Doctor being killed by his own.

_He lowered his eyes as Phillips shook his head, indicating with his knife, “It’s you, or Schmidt. It’s just the hand you’ve been dealt.” He returned his attention to his plate._

_Zola inhaled briefly before starting, “Schmidt believes he walks in the footsteps of the gods.” Phillips uttered an entertained ‘Hm,’ before Zola continued sharply, “Only the world itself will satisfy him.”_

_“You do realise that’s nuts, don’t you?” he interjected._

_“What?” he breathed, dismissing, “The sanity of the plan is of no consequence.”_

_“And why is that?”_

_“Because he can do it!”_

_Phillips paused in consideration before asking, “What’s his target?”_

_“His ‘target’… is everywhere,” he relayed._

All either figuratively or literally shook their heads at the excessiveness of the plan, that seemed to inherently lend itself to its own downfall, with the exception of Loki and Thor. World domination or the subjugation of a particular race deemed inferior was a serious threat that often arose in Asgard’s concerns. There were many extremely powerful artefacts within the Nine Realms that, if accessed by certain personalities, could be used to succeed in such ambitions. The Weapons’ Vault held many of them, seized during or after such ventures were embarked upon.

Independent rule over each of the Nine lent itself to the Allfather’s wishes more than the instability of a forceful seizure and or a genocide that inspired pleas to him to intervene.

_On an underground airstrip, the completed Valkyrie sat quiet. The enormous triangular plane’s front was covered in window panes laid flush alongside one another, wings stretched out on either side past the still, round turbines. An assembly of HYDRA soldiers stood in rows as Schmidt marched around one of the sets of landing wheels, snapping to attention as he halted with his back to them. A stool stood beside his leather-clad form, bearing a bottle of wine and a glass partially filled, and he turned on his heel to stare at the assembled force from his scarlet visage, gloved hands twisted and clenched in one another before him._

_“Tomorrow,” he began, “HYDRA will stand master of the world, borne to victory on the wings of the Valkyrie.”_

“How dare he,” Thor grumbled, Loki’s nose wrinkled in distaste as well in disgust of the man’s use of such respected figures. “The disrespect- Villainous knave-”

“What’s the Valkyrie?” Pepper asked, redirecting their attention.

While Thor continued to grit his teeth and fume, Loki glared at the screen and explained, “They are a host of greatly respected females, moving through the aftermath of battle to choose who are to live and who to die. Of those whose souls pass on, half are recruited to Valhalla to train for Ragnarӧk.”

“They represent strength and sacrifice and the honour of warriors!” Thor burst. “They are the reward for the toil of our lives. To have their name attached to something about to rain destruction down upon a Realm – nevermind that it’s a mere machine without esteem –”

“Hey, you have to acknowledge that she’s a quality piece of work,” Tony countered.

“Wait, your reward for fighting is to… train to fight?” Pepper asked with furrowed brows.

“There’s Heaven for you,” Clint remarked.

Thor’s head turned from side to side as his attention swung between Pepper and Clint, and he uttered a confused, “What?”

Loki, correctly interpreting his puzzlement, elaborated. “There’s a religious belief system here on Midgard that advertises a life after death. Heaven is where those who have done some good are placed, an ideal space of leisure as I understand it, and Hell-” he rolled his eyes at the name, “-is where the ‘sinners’ are punished.”

“Why would you want to endlessly mill about – that’s hardly a return for your service,” the blond said. “Certainly, there is no dishonour is finding yourself in Folkvangr (which is much the same) but we are each identified by our actions and striving to accomplish our goals! Valhalla gives us a purpose, even after death – there is no fear of our character wasting away.”

“Hm,” Bruce mused in interest.

Some of Thor’s interpretations of his friends were thrown, and now he wondered what belief systems they adhered to and what drove them to fight, if they did not have the same sense of purpose that the Ӕsir warriors did.

_His agents’ faces, covered with masks and goggles, were fixed upon him. “Our enemies’ weapons will be powerless against us. If they shoot down one plane, hundreds more will rain fire upon them!” He lifted the wineglass, “If they cut off one head, two more shall take its place. Hail HYDRA.”_

_“Hail HYDRA!” they shouted, arms raising fists into the air. ‘Hail HYDRA!’_

_He turned, rows upon rows of armed soldiers lifting their arms and calling, ‘Hail HYDRA, Hail HYDRA,’ guns glowing azure hung in front of them. The hundreds of shadows showing the curve of their raised limbs joined on the floor, a mass of joined serpents._

_“Hail HYDRA!”_

Abruptly torn from the tangential discussion of ambition and religion, there was a thick tension as the group witnessed the mass of agents gathered. The amount of force that Schmidt was able to persuade to follow him in his world takeover stunned them, and produced doubt in their minds as to the success of the infantile SHIELD although these events were long past.

_Peggy stepped through the debris of the storefronts laid to waste, a light mist on the ground and curling up the piles of bricks in the night, gingerly bracing herself on the remains of a wall before making her way through the building. The wind lightly tossed her curls as she adjusted her gloves, a bag over her shoulder, long coat buttoned securely, ‘Please wait for the all-clear,’ echoing faintly overhead from the PA system. She sighed at her search and the wreck of the bombing as the notice continued, ‘Your attention, please. All citizens should remain indoors until further notice.’ The clatter of a bottle called her to turn, moving through to another room where a door lay propped up on its side on the ground and a piece of the ceiling crushed the surface of the bar. ‘Blackout is still in effect throughout the London area.’_

_Steve looked over his shoulder at the sound of her entrance, sniffing as he turned away again and brushing his knuckles across his nose as she approached where he sat at the table, taking off her gloves._

The occupants of the room watched as Steve mourned, the man himself curled up defensively in their midst and radiating discomfort at them bearing witness to his state then and now. They noticed his tense shoulders and furtive glances, and the more expressive individuals had to forcefully restrain themselves from moving to physically comfort him.

_He reached for the large bottle in front of him and poured himself a drink, glass comfortably held in hand as he uttered, “Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn’t just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells.” He put it back down before him. “Create a protective system of regeneration and healing, which means, um, I can’t get drunk._

_“Did you know that?”_

_Walls, blinds, tables, chairs, and lights lied strewn on the ground, faint moonlight the only natural illumination in the space._

Natasha thought it sad – did not feel it for the image of the past, but thought – that after all the hardships Steve bore with determination and perseverance to help wherever he could, when he was down and needed to find a way to cope the avenue of dulling the pain of the memory with alcohol was taken from him.

_“Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person,” she explained, turning to bend and right one of the toppled chairs before taking a seat opposite him. “He thought it could be one of the side effects.” She took off her purse as his eyes drifted over the alcohol, announcing, “It wasn’t your fault.”_

_His gaze shifted away as he questioned, accusatory, “Did you read the report?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Then you know that’s not true.”_

Pepper frowned at the self-chastisement, detesting the guilt and pain that accumulated as an inevitable outcome of the high-stakes lives these people live. Just living in close proximity to the seven called to her instincts to comfort, though most would not permit it from her. The realisation that all these strong individuals might be suffering the same pain as Tony from shouldering the responsibility for all the downward spirals of life, and hiding it so to bear it on their own just as he did, caused her to ache.

She did not look over to Steve, but reached back and held onto his hand. He immediately cast a searching glance onto her, but allowed it.

_She objected, “You did everything you could.” His neat tie, uniform, and hair were picturesque, however his brows were drawn together and his eyes shadowed, reddened, his mouth terse. “Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him?” she asked, and his head lifted. “Then stop blaming yourself–” He lowered his eyes as he swallowed. “allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it.”_

Loki nodded slightly in approval of her rational support.

_“I’m going after Schmidt,” he intoned flatly. “I’m not gonna stop until all of HYDRA is dead or captured.”_

_“You won’t be alone,” she replied, and his head lifted again to acknowledge her._

“All right, let’s get that bastard,” Tony declared. Steve might have otherwise laughed at how his narrowed eyes and invested attitude looked like that of a fan at a ball game.

_“Johann Schmidt belongs in a bughouse,” Phillips declared, standing in front of a map hung on a wall, the underground base lit with frequent but faint artificial light. He turned to continue, “He thinks he’s a god and he’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA.” He gestured to the lower left hand of the representation._

_“Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities,” Howard proclaimed, striding through the crowd of uniformed men to the seat left empty beside James. “He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire Eastern Seaboard in an hour,” he stressed, elbow on the surface of the table as he leaned over it._

_Peggy exhaled heavily in response from her seat opposite, then cast her gaze onto Steve, who sat at the head of the long table._

_“How much time we got?” Gabe queried from beside Jacques, at the Captain’s silence._

_“According to my new best friend, under twenty-four hours,” Phillips answered._

_“Where is he now?”_

_“HYDRA’s last base is here,” he held up a photograph to jab the center of, “in the Alps, five-hundred feet below the surface.” He tossed the black and white images onto the table._

At the revelation of the sight of the last base and confirmation of Schmidt’s plan, the group recognised that the final play was in motion.

_“So what are we supposed to do?” Jim wondered, Dugan across from him. “I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door,” he said, James leaning over the arm of his chair to look at the copies._

_“Why not?” Steve questioned. The seven along the table turned to face him, and he lifted his eyes to declare with determination, “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”_

‘Okay then,’ Clint uttered with a one-shouldered shrug, Natasha saying, “This will be interesting.”

_The Captain’s booted heel struck the lever behind the right footrest to kick-start the engine, the motorcycle revving before springing forward in the pale light of dawn. He rode over the wide dirt path, through the array of slim trees and sparse foliage with his hard helm over his head, emblazoned ‘A’ and star below bright._

_He followed the curve of the road to half a dozen HYDRA soldiers darting out of the shade to ride in his wake, guns mounted in front of their handles shooting rays of azure with a whir to ricochet off of the shield hung on his back. He glanced back over his shoulder before turning to face forward again, continuing to weave along the pathway before hitting a straight stretch and diverting his attention to the panel covered in switches on his right handle. He flicked the top right lever to a red light beginning to shine just below it, then pressed the button in the bottom left corner._

_Behind his seat, a coil of cable unfurled from the metal cylinder and shot outward on either side, jumping from the container to stretch taut with ends embedded in trees. Four of his armoured pursuers crouched low over their handlebars to duck underneath the line, but the last two were caught in the chest and were thrown backwards as they screamed, bikes continuing on before veering off course without steering._

_Activating another addition, gas streamed out of the thruster at the back to ignite in a slew of flames, propelling Steve forward and coating the agent closest behind in fire. He skid off the road as he burned, two others continuing the chase, bike landing on its side and pinning him as the last rammed into the wreck and the soldier was thrown over his own motorcycle with a staggered yell._

_Steve was cut off as the two cut through some of the forest to ride back onto the road in front of him, but he leaned forward and sped up, driving between the two and leaning over to pull a pin out of one of the grenades attached to the back of the bike on his right. He drew ahead during the wait, then glanced back as the bomb exploded and the two were engulfed in the plume of fire and smoke._

_Gazing forward, and taking note of the tank set between the walls of the entrance to the HYDRA base that the road led to, he lifted his shield from his back and placed it securely to the front of his bike. The turret whirled and recoiled as it shot a beam of azure, the attack almost hitting the vibranium and fanning out in flames to his right while Steve rode through the barrage. Another streak shot past his left side, another impacting the ground in front of him, another to his left again, then to his right, but he rode through the heat and spray of dirt to meet the armoured vehicle that rolled forward. He quickly pressed a button on the panel on his left handlebar, and two missiles were fired to hit the tank, the resulting explosion bright and scoring the sides of the entryway as a cloud of debris burst out._

_The fire torched the air of the space as Steve rode up one of the walls, now serving as a ramp, flying off the other side and landing heavily on the ground. He rode through the agents standing with weapons in hand, regaining control of the bike as they shot only to impede each other amidst the flaming metal pieces of the tank. He flicked the switch on the left of the panel on his right, the other light shining as he pressed the bottom button. He swiftly grabbed his shield and stood balanced on his seat for a second before launching from the motorcycle and slamming shield-first into the agent atop another tank._

_He hit the dirt with the back of his shoulders and rolled to his feet, hefting his shield before lifting to throw it at one of the agents rushing him. Uniformed men ran through the base as armoured agents moved to him, ducking behind large containers and tanks for cover as he caught his shield. His bike drove on to the thick metal lowered as an obstacle for entrance into the hollowed out mountain, crashing to explode violently and tear through the defense to the surprise of the agents standing guard on the interior._

A shocked chuckle escaped from Loki at the well-engineered assault as the other viewers sat in stunned silence, some gaping.

_Steve deflected twin shots from an agent before him, stepping closer with his shield up to deliver a knee to his chest that sent him through the air to knock over a pile of supplies. He turned to sharply slam his shield into another, the agent landing on his back, and then charged at one to whip his raised fist aside with the metal surface, punch him in the gut, and finally throw him head over heels with the impact of his shield. One more he struck, beating the gun down and him to land on all fours before swinging his leg back and kicking him away._

_He ran as more agents streamed out from the cover of the sidelines, hurling his shield off to the side to ricochet off the side of a tank and knock out one of the soldiers in front of him while he kicked the gun out of the hands of the other and grabbed a hold of him to toss him up over another tank that was standing alongside. He reached up and caught his returning shield, then stood warily as two agents cornered him, modified armour fueling the flamethrowers on their arms that boxed him in._

_He glanced between them, breathing hard, and then the fire retreated and he lowered his shield, another forty men to quickly gathering with glinting guns raised._

“Man, I was starting to think you would actually be able to take the whole base by yourself,” Tony laughed. 

“That was amazing,” Bruce added softly, in awe of the tempered attack. Steve’s strength was under control even in the adrenaline rush of battle, aware that he was knocking out all of his opponents and not moving to allow himself to accidentally kill any one of them.

_He was marched through a door that was held open by five men, two holding him and three holding their weapons behind, another shutting the door to seal off the dim, open space. Steve turned his head to face the series of tall windows, Schmidt stepping away from them and declaring snappily, “Arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait but I must say, you do it better than anyone.” The blond raised his chin as the Red Skull came to a halt before him. “But… there are limits – to what even you can do, Captain. Or did Erskine tell you otherwise?”_

_“He told me you were insane,” he retorted._

_“Ah,” he said, eyes widening, and then he surveyed the Captain as he divulged, “He resented my genius and tried to deny me what was rightfully mine, but he gave you everything.” He indicated him, and Steve inspected him in return before meeting his gaze. “So, what made you so special?” he interrogated._

_Steve chuckled, casting his eyes over him again in mockery. “Nothing,” he responded, the other sneering, “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”_

_Schmidt reeled back and slammed a fist into his face in anger, swinging back to slap him with the back of his hand before punching him in the stomach._

They all winced at the violent reaction, even though the sharp anger of Schmidt’s temperament was to be expected.

_Steve fell to his knees, coughing, hands still secured behind his back as they both breathed heavily, yet he looked up at the Red Skull and challenged, “I can do this all day.”_

Thor smiled. The type of strength the Captain wielded had been had before the serum.

_“Oh, of course you can, of course, but unfortunately I am on a tight schedule,” he immediately returned, drawing a handgun from his hip and pointing it at his head as it whirred._

Pepper squeezed Steve’s hand as she held her breath.

_Several cables shot to secure their ends into the rocky ledge above the windows of the room, Schmidt turning at the sound to gape at the figures seen dark against the mountainside in the distance. Three began their zip lining to the glass surfaces as Steve remarked in iteration of the other, “So am I,” baring his teeth as he grabbed the nozzle of the gun of the agent beside him. The man was pulled around to his front as Schmidt shot, killing his own soldier as Steve’s men crashed through the windows to hurtle into the room._

_Schmidt turned and ran as James began firing, Gabe having landed on the desk and shooting at the half dozen agents as well. Steve hurled one away as Schmidt darted out and down the adjoining hall, James and Dugan advancing closer to their opponents before the former called out, “Rogers!” He stooped down to grab the Captain’s shield as he let his gun swing across his front and continued to fire from a handgun. “You might need this!” He threw it to him._

_“Thanks!” Steve shouted back, securing her onto his arm before hopping out of the firefight. He glanced to the left before dashing to the right in pursuit of Schmitt._

_Rows upon rows of armoured agents jogged down the hallway to the sounds of combat, a door blowing off its hinges to Jacques and Jim shooting. The latter yelled into his microphone, “We’re in! Assault Team, go!”_

_“Move out!” Phillips commanded from Peggy’s side at the fringe of the forest bordering the compound. He led the men alongside, an echo of ‘move’ resounding among the uniformed soldiers that rushed forward through the brush._

“Solid,” Clint approved of the strategy.

_HYDRA soldiers retreated as they fired, Jacques and Jim leading a charge through the corridors._

_“Keep your spacing!” Phillips ordered as their numbers sprinted down the hill, those agents outside and the tanks left firing into the midst of them._

_Dugan, James, and Gabe shot with commandeered weapons in close quarters._

_Peggy ran with the rest, all their rifles pointed forward, surging and persevering though some were disintegrated. They swarmed through debris to fallen HYDRA agents, the amount guarding outside diminished and forced to move backwards and gather at the entrance at the rush. Dust, fire, and dirt shot up to cloud the air as bright rays of azure streamed onward, before the losing men turned to race away._

_Screams pierced the air as mines detonated, bombs laid underground the walls exploding. HYDRA agents were burned and thrown as the entrance was torn through once again, ceilings, walls, and floors on the interior blasting apart. Schmidt stopped and grabbed the gun of one of his fallen at the flare that abruptly blocked his path, backtracking as he furiously shot the small team that entered through the hole. Once merely particles in the air, he spun and headed back._

_A HYDRA contingent darted around a corner as one shouted in confrontation, “Cut off one head, two more shall-” to shots to their chests, uniformed soldiers led by Phillips moving through the halls as the Colonel cocked his rifle and remarked,_

_“Let’s go find two more.”_

Tony huffed out a chortle at the retort.

_Schmidt twisted to fire the modified handgun at the pursuing figure of the Captain, the beam deflected with the shield’s surface as they ran before another was shot to the same effect. Steve abruptly skid to a stop to aim and throw his shield, the disc ricocheting off the curved wall in front of him to brace open the heavy doors that were closing behind Schmidt, just short of impacting the man. He had drifted to one side to gaze after her and now leapt forward, but an agent appeared in his path with twin flamethrowers spewing fire that forced him to throw himself against the opposite wall. He turned his head away from the heat that plumed around the partition he had taken refuge behind, trapped, the onslaught stuttering for only a second before the agent aimed more purposefully at his form and intimidatingly approached._

_From the end of a hall Peggy walked in front of a group of soldiers with automatic raised. She fired with pursed lips to the rounds impacting the side of the tanks mounted on an agent’s back to a bright explosion. His flamethrowers shorted as he fell onto his stomach, groaning._

_Steve turned at the reprieve and sound of pain, leaning around the corner before abandoning his shelter as Peggy lowered her weapon and the group continued forward. Steve trot past the burning remains with a lingering glance, before meeting Peggy at the juncture as the other men ran past in a cacophony of directives. He greeted, “You’re late.”_

_Her eyes took in his mostly uninjured form before rising to meet with his own, Steve settling before her. “Weren’t you about to, uh-” she stuttered, and he jolted out of his own stare to glance to the right and dart away with a hasty ‘Right.’ She exhaled heavily as the eased atmosphere._

_Steve moved swiftly to where his shield was caught between the doors and wedged her out with grit teeth, slipping through the entrance as it shut behind him to bar the view of Peggy turning with gun in hand to continue away from the fire._

Though it was heartening to see some of the same humorous awkwardness present between the two, the priorities and intensity of the circumstances quickly reduced any of the room’s positivity.

_Schmidt jogged through the wide hanger to let his left arm hang with the ray gun in hand while he climbed the short ladder up into the Valkyrie. Three uniformed men came upon the scene and opened fire, the three HYDRA agents following the Red Skull up into the plane shot to fall and lie prone on the ground._

_He marched through the interior to where the Cube was held above the central hub of an intricate appliance, azure shining brightly before it was lowered completely into the mechanism and he twisted the handle to lock it in. He tossed his commandeered weapon away as he climbed to sit in the command chair of the empty bridge, swivelling with a whir and powering up the control console laid before him. Lights turned on as dials and gages aligned themselves, a display panel turning on to show the breadth of the pointed form of the Valkyrie and the eight missiles held in the cargo hold._

_A path seared red from the controls of the bridge down to the eight warheads, the symbols underneath representing them lighting up._

_Two other round screens started up, maps dimly lit, one of which swung its view over the Atlantic Ocean to the coast of America to target New York City._

_Twin thrusters ignited at the rear of the aircraft, pushing her forwards as the propellers along the back of one wing began to spin. Her body smoothly turned before earnestly powering her propulsion, gliding with increasing speed on her landing gear through the hanger._

_Steve jogged into the space, panting, amid gun shots, debris, and bodies. Dim illumination streaked down from the regular lights in the ceiling high above to present the masses of HYDRA agents and Allied soldiers firing at each other in ranks of combat, the Valkyrie drifting out in the background. He dashed into the fray, deflecting an azure beam and slamming an agent aside with the face of his shield, punching another, and then crashing into a third to his fall backwards. Then, Steve quickly moved towards a large container between a few soldiers and used it to leap off of, flying through the air to grab a hold of a chain hanging from the ceiling._

_He swung to the men below gazing up at him, the other agents’ shots missing in bright bands, and then landed to continue running after the airplane, a spread of the fight and a couple of explosions left behind by the factories. He sprinted, alongside and near to the craft, but though he pushed harder she drew steadily away._

_He slowed to a stop, mouth open and chest heaving as he breathed hard, headlights shining around him as a vehicle suddenly skid to a stop beside him. He turned at the grey Coupé as Phillips shouted from in front of Peggy, “Get in!” Steve leaping into the passenger seat._

_As Schmidt was monitoring the controls, he observed the car attempting to give chase on the screen displaying one of the rear camera feeds. The vehicle was speeding over the expanse of the runway. He bit his lip in anger and pushed a series of levers forward, increasing the throttle, before flipping a switch alongside. The large doors that served as exit onto the leveled and paved section of snow-covered mountainside began to slide open, road abruptly ending at the ridge just beyond._

_Peggy and Steve furrowed their brows in worry at the section of daylight the plane was fast approaching, but the Colonel tilted his head down in determination and decisively pressed the red button under the wheel. A propeller spun at the back as thrusters ignited along the sides, the car lurching forward. The Valkyrie rushed as the smaller vehicle raced, coming underneath her to the Captain standing to climb onto his seat, throw a leg over the door, and balance on the side. “Keep it steady!” he called in the rush of airflow._

_“Wait!” Peggy yelled, reaching forward to grab one of the straps over his uniform as he turned and pulling him back to meet her in a kiss. She drew away to his fascinated stare, and uttered, “Go get him.”_

_He sat back on his perch and dragged his eyes to Phillips, who looked up at him briefly and declared, “I’m not kissing you!” Steve turned forward and closed his open mouth, slinging his shield across his back and standing to throw his other leg out of the car and carefully shimmying up to the hood. As they drove one of the propellers sliced along the face of his shield and he laid flat on the car to minimise the impact, the one on the other side coming down above the left front wheel to Phillips’ wince._

_Schmidt grimaced inside as he steered, and Phillips and Peggy recoiled outside as Steve moved around the right headlight and precariously perched on the front bumper. The windows that covered the front of the bridge showed the hanger doors and then the expanse of mountains beyond, and Schmidt pulled the controls down towards him as the plane exited. Steve took a flying leap with a grunt as the craft rose and then Phillips sharply turned the car, the blond managing to grab hold of one of the landing wheels as his purchase on the vehicle underneath him disappeared._

_Dust flew up as the vehicle skid over the limited stretch of road, the car turning fully around and breaking hard before it slowed with its rear hung out over the edge of the precipice. Peggy turned to look at Steve as the airplane flew out, standing as Phillips looked over his shoulder and Steve met their gazes._


	10. Snaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The film is finished with comments of derision, but the aftershocks are still to be seen.

_The landing gear began to fold up into the Valkyrie’s underbelly as she took to the air, Steve bracing a leg over the metal shaft of the wheels and wrapping an arm around the thick cables that hung alongside as the apparatus turned horizontal and was lifted into the hull. He lifted his head from the collection as the panelling shut him inside, gazing about the dark interior as the wheels slowed their turning before turning and lifting himself over the gear to then vault onto one of the long railed bridges running through the space. He took a couple of cautious steps, and then slowed, staring out at the immense missiles labeled neatly in white paint: ‘Chicago,’ ‘Boston,’ and ‘New York’._

_His wide eyes remained fixed on the payload as he dwelled on the effects, dragging up along it to the glass-covered pilot’s seat just as the metallic echoes of a metal door and footsteps called his awareness. Four HYDRA agents filed out along the bridge just below him, and he immediately leapt to grab hold of one of the bars on the ceiling and swung a fierce kick to the last in line, the agent tumbling over the opposite rail. The others turned as he landed and steadied himself, the closest drawing a knife from his boot and charging._

“Yeah, like that’s going to do a lot of good against a super soldier with one hell of a shield,” Tony commented.

_He turned the shield on his back toward the thrust and then knocked his elbow up into the arm wielding the weapon, grabbing the agent and slamming him onto the rail as another ran at him and Steve kicked him in the stomach. The third turned and darted to the missile he was to be heading, but Steve took the knife from the agent in his hold and stepped back to throw it to land solidly into the other’s back._

Natasha raised an eyebrow as she met the surprised glance of Clint, their shock at the expert throw evident. This was paralleled by Loki, though he understood how it made sense, given the calculations needed to wield the shield in his possession. _Perhaps some modifications should be made to the weaponry available to him while in uniform, to accommodate this skillset,_ he thought.

_The agent freed stood and drove a punch forward, but Steve caught it between his raised forearms and then punched him back down. Suddenly the propellers at the tail of the Chicago missile began to spin as the agent kicked back stumbled towards it, having powered it up, Steve turning at the sudden sound of wind and seeing him grab hold of the ceiling to enter the cockpit. The blond darted to the control panel on the bridge as the other agent followed him, climbing down the ladder behind him. He flipped the switch and pressed the red button corresponding to the missile’s compartment before, at the sight of the green light, he pulled the level along the side._

_The panelling underneath the bomb opened to the missile dropping toward the ocean surface far below, the agent left hanging kicking his legs for purchase before his grip let go and he fell into the open air to follow it with a scream. The agent beside the Captain threw a punch that the blond caught before returning his own punch, and then spun to duck under the agent at his back’s punch and jump up to elbow and then punch him in the face. Then he lifted him from where he had fallen with a groan over his head, and hurled him to fall out of the jet as well._

_Another missile’s propellers began to spin, and Steve dashed toward it as the glass over the cockpit slid closed over the agent piloting. He lifted his shield to secure it to his arm as he circled the bomb, then climbed onto the shell to kneel and bring the rim down onto the cover only for another agent to dive forward and crash into him. The vibranium disc flew off to the side, and the agent inside the missile turned to flip the red switch and press the button that dropped the payload for New York out of the plane._

_Steve held onto the purchase he had found on the casing as the agent at his back held onto him, the Captain repeatedly elbowing backward in an attempt to dislodge his grip. Wings fanned out at the sides of the missile, the pilot, upon glimpsing the men above, steering erratically to displace them. He tilted to the side, then dove down, the two sliding to the nose, and then jerked up. Steve’s legs scrambled for friction as he kicked out over the wing, sliding along the shell before catching hold of the rudder. The agent sliding along the other side skated headfirst into the spinning propeller with a choked scream, slashed into a spray of gore that trailed through the air behind._

Some of the occupants of the room winced at the blood, the others absentmindedly wishing that such was the worst bloodshed that they had seen.

_Steve maintained his uncertain grip in the extreme wind as the pilot tried to assess the presence of the men, then the Captain shoved the cover forward with a grunt to reach into the cockpit and pull the red lever beside the seat to eject the agent. His chair was propelled out into the air, and then Steve moved into the vacated area to the cover sliding closed above him. He took control of the joystick and steered toward the Valkyrie, gritting his teeth in determination as he sped to overtake her and then circled around in front of Schmidt’s view._

_He sneered at the sight and activated the gun turrets on top of the Valkyrie, azure rays streaking out to Steve’s alarm and furious dodging and weaving to evade the blasts. The top of his rudder was hit as he rounded the craft, and he corrected his course to fly straight at the larger plane. He aimed between her rear thrusters to one of the two small openings into her underbelly, wincing as the sides of the sensitive bomb scraped her interior beams of metals._

_Its came to a stop as its nose hit a protrusion, Steve forcing himself out of the aircraft and to his shield, which he lifted and secured to his arm with a heavy exhale._

_He cautiously swung open one of the doors exiting from the hanger, furtively glancing around as he entered onto the long bridge. The Tesseract shone out of the central mechanism from where she powered the plane, the back of the pilot’s chair dark against the daylight streaming through the expanse of windows. He crept silently down the steps with his shield born in front of his body, breathing through his mouth as he edged down the left aisle._

_He moved closer while suspiciously darting his gaze around the space, craning awkwardly to look across into the seat only to find it empty as Schmidt stepped out of the shadows behind him with a gun. Steve spun and raised his shield for the azure beam to ricochet and smash through the panes of glass behind him._

_“You don’t give up, do you?” Schmidt drawled with an incredulous shake of his head._

_“Nope,” he quipped, rushing forward as the Red Skull fired to hit the surface of the vibranium once more and then again, before Steve slammed the weapon out of his hands as he darted to hit him with it. The blond punched him, and then swiped his shield for the rim to slice by Schmidt’s neck as he stepped back, lunging forward again to punch the Captain in the stomach and then across his face. He grabbed a hold of the material of the back of his uniform to toss him away from where he dropped his shield from the impact._

_He landed on his hands and knees, and Schmidt kicked his midriff, aiming another kick to his head that Steve halted, grasping his foot and jerking him forward too unbalance him. The two clutched at each other as they grappled briefly, and then Steve managed to climb to his feet and propel them across the aisle to slam Schmidt’s back against the wall, although his successful punch was with a force that threw both men to the ground._

_Steve turned and grabbed a container with rounded rim, recovering first to knock Schmidt’s head into the floor as he stood before tossing the aid away. He then heaved the man to his feet and gathered him in a chokehold from behind. Schmidt struggled before writhing to swing them over the device holding the Cube, Steve releasing his hold as they crashed to the ground again._

_Steve scrambled away and lurched for his shield, raising her to bring her down upon Schmidt’s form as he charged him, but he managed to tear her from the blond’s arm as he punched him in the stomach and slammed her across his face. He then used her surface to press Steve back against the device with a snarl, but Steve surged forward with a head butt and took his shield back, shoving him with her to hit the back of the chair and tip it into the control console._

_Schmidt winced at the impact as the steering lever was tilted down amidst sparks behind him, Steve thrown to topple to the floor as the airplane dove downward abruptly. The Valkyrie streaked through the clear sky at dawn toward sea level as Steve flew to a corner of the ceiling at the acceleration and Schmidt was pitched to him. They spun over each other with the force of their punches and kicks before Schmidt managed to knock Steve across the ceiling. As the blond flailed Schmidt climbed down one of the metal beams to leap to the series of panels, pressing a couple of buttons and flicking the switch to activate autopilot._

_Steve landed harshly on the grating of the bridge as the plane leveled out, the Red Skull turning from his stand on higher ground as he drew his handgun from his hip. He turned toward him as he stepped down from the platform. “You could have the power of the gods!” he taunted, firing while Steve flinched and ducked down._

Thor glared as his hands fisted at his sides, aggrieved at the insanity prompted by the temptation of such artifacts.

_“Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations!” He shot again, the ray hitting one of the many metal supports. “I have seen the future, Captain-” Another beam was fired, impacting the wall behind the blond. “-there are no flags!”_

No symbols of identification, or differentiation? Despite Schmidt’s irrationality and contempt of Hitler, he obviously shared his delusion of uniting a superior race.

_“Not my future!” he shouted._

Clint shook his head in amusement at the comeback.

_Another shot soared over him as he jumped to roll across the center aisle, raising his shield to deflect the next ray before he reeled back and threw his shield with grit teeth and a yell. She spun to hit him in the stomach, and he was hurled back forcefully to collide with the mechanism in the center of the bridge._

_Azure sparks danced over the appliance at the damage, a whirl of blinding light exploding up from the Cube before it dispersed in scattered rays that patterned the ceiling and fell to wrap the girth of the machine._

Tony’s eyebrows rose in surprise as Bruce’s furrowed in deliberation, Loki leaning forward slightly in heightened attention.

_Steve stared as Schmidt called, “What have you done?” stumbling to the device. He muttered, ‘No,’ at the Tesseract’s displacement from the core, taking the precious Cube into his hand._

_She sparked before shining brightly, energy shooting upward to glint and gather at the edges of the ceiling. Another vision was suddenly granted through the surface, a dark galaxy backlit by clusters of stars within an expanse of space speckled with light. Schmidt held his arms aloft while his eyes captured the visualisation, Steve immobilised off to the side. Then the Cube gleamed dangerously, her power concentrating on Schmidt’s form and beginning to pull his flesh from his bones._

_Steve stared as the hand holding the Tesseract was torn up by the radiation; Schmidt screamed while it climbed up his arm, across his collar, and scored the skin covering his skull. The Captain flinched sharply as the azure glare flared and raised his arms to cover his face as he turned away, the other’s entire body encompassed in the energy, disintegrated, and drawn upward to the dim stars directly above._

‘The radiation completely ripped him apart,’ Bruce dully observed as Tony questioned immediately, “Everyone was working in close quarters with the thing, though – you’d think some of their tech would’ve picked up that degree of emission.”

“The Cube’s signature appears to have been consistently concentrated in these events,” Loki contributed aloud, “even with Schmidt making use of her from the point she was recovered in Tønsberg. It’s likely that sitting dormant caused her power to accumulate. This portal was the only expression of a real percentage of it, and lessened the energy she emit thereafter.”

“But wasn’t it lost for a bit before SHIELD recovered it?” Pepper asked.

“A mere number of decades doesn’t resonate with her,” Thor said.

“SHIELD had possession of the Tesseract for a long time, too,” Natasha added. “I think there just wasn’t a way to understand the technology until recently.”

_The sharp, jagged beam collapsed in on itself from its travel into the heavens, falling back to the interior as the aftershock soared out from the Valkyrie. Steve panted as the glow rescinded, once more confined to the Cube as she fell to the grating of the bridge. He picked up his shield as the Tesseract melted the material underneath to continue downward and through the bottom surface of the place, tumbling through the whistling wind below._

“Being submerged in the ocean would also affect her state,” Loki interjected, “contrary to being immersed in a magically rich area.”

_He dashed to the control board as he placed her aside before unclipping and removing his cowl, taking a seat in the pilot’s chair and turning to address the damage that had been taken. He adjusted his seat and grabbed the steering yoke, glancing across to one of the navigation screens that swung from the targeted New York City to the ocean currently being traversed over. He stared out into the middle distance as the wind breezed through the broken glass and fluttering flurries of snow brushed past his face._

Steve dropped Pepper’s hand as he sat curled rigidly in the corner of the seating arrangement, forcing his eyes to remain fixed on the screen before him even as she darted a glance to him; Thor and Loki’s eyes narrowed at the same display in suspicion to the progression of his past thoughts.

_Peggy stood in front of Colonel Phillips in the HYDRA base’s command center as Steve radioed, “Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?”_

_Jim answered, “Captain Rogers, what is your-” before Peggy strode over, leaned over his shoulder, and overrode,_

_“Steve, is that you? Are you all right?”_

_She pushed him out of the chair to replace his seat as Steve replied, “Peggy- Schmidt’s dead.”_

_“What about the plane?” her voice asked as Steve kept one hand on the steering controls as his left experimented with the switches whose connections were not damaged._

_He aborted a shake of his head in helplessness, finally uttering, “That’s a little bit tougher to explain.”_

_“G-Give me your coordinates – I’ll find you a safe landing site,” she said, prepared over her own controls in the calm of the base, Jim and Phillips standing behind her._

Pepper clenched her jaw as her eyes began to water. She didn’t dare reach over to Steve again.

_He paused for a second before answering, “There’s not gonna be a safe landing.” He surveyed the six missiles that were still held in the cargo bay and the damage to the mechanics of the plane. “But I can try and force it down.”_

Thor appeared about to interject, but Natasha grabbed the wrist of the arm beside her that rose in gesticulation. She sharply shook her head.

_Phillips tapped Jim on the shoulder and jerked a finger to motion their exit, Peggy responding quickly, “I-I’ll get Howard on the line – he’ll know what to do.”_

_“There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and its heading for New York.”_

_The cold wind rushed in as he sat panting, gazing out into the sky. He said, “I gotta put her in the water.”_

_“Please, don’t do this. W-We have time- We can work it out.” Her voice caught as she pleaded, eyes glistening._

_“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere,” he explained, symbol displayed over the water moving toward shore. “If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die.”_

_The Valkyrie glided through the sparse cloud cover, sky bereft of other craft._

_“Peggy,” he comforted earnestly, “this is my choice.”_

_She closed her eyes in concession, moving to shake her head in an act of silent protest as she pressed her lips together._

It wasn’t the scene from his perspective that caused Steve pain but being forced to relive Peggy’s obvious distress. Her voice had been but a memory he had tried to hang onto, before; now, her anguish was manifest in front of him and he was intensely subjected to what they had had and all that they had experienced together.

_Steve manoeuvered an object out of his pocket, revealing a compass as he opened it and propped it up against the face of one of the dials before him. Peggy’s image stared at him from the cover, and he gazed at it mournfully before returning his attention to the task at hand._

_He resolutely tilted the yoke down, and the aircraft dove sharply._

Tony crossed his arms, leaning away from the prospect as much as he was able. He could feel Bruce taking measured breaths at his back, but didn’t turn to look at him. He couldn’t look at Steve right then.

_He stared at her for a moment as the altitude meter steadily decreased. He called, “Peggy?”_

_“I’m here.”_

_The icy shoreline drew closer in the spread of windowpanes._

_“I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”_

_She inhaled sharply as she gathered herself, a tear under an eye as she answered, “All right.” She cast her eyes to the floor before declaring, “A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”_

_He said, “You got it.”_

_The Valkyrie sped onward._

_“8 o’ clock on the dot – don’t you dare be late. Understood?”_

_His eyes never wavered from the encroaching land, and he remarked, “You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”_

_She lowered her gaze as she smiled softly._

_The wind howled as the plane hurtled through the air._

_“I’ll show you how,” she reassured with a choked laugh, beseeching, “Just be there.”_

_His breathing quickened as he started, “We’ll have the band play something slow,” the details of the shoreline magnified._

_“I’d hate to step on your-”_

_His voice abruptly cut off to give way to static over the radio, Peggy’s eyes widening as she called, “Steve?” Her eyes closed as sniffed and pleaded again, “Steve?”_

_Phillips averted his gaze, lowering his head as she sobbed, continuing to call out, ‘Steve,’ as her tears fell. He turned and walked away, and she held her head in her hands._

“Pause it for a moment, Jarvis, if you please,” Loki requested, pressing two fingers to his temple as he leaned back in absorption of the sequence of events.

Thor and Pepper both moved to the corner before comically realising abruptly that Steve was absent from the spot, Clint explaining with a thumb jerked over his shoulder in direction, “He just moved to his room.”

‘You’d think he’d make more noise, the huge lumbering-’ Tony muttered before Pepper tearfully asserted, “He shouldn’t be alone right now.” ‘Well he obviously wants to be.’

“We’re finishing this,” Natasha commanded, Bruce nodding with a careful exhale as he affixed,

“then we’re going to bed to give him space. We can confront him in the morning.”

_The ice and snow was gouged with deep furrows along the coast, the metal debris and massive piece of a wing imbedded in the sea of white a trail to the crashed Valkyrie, nose deep in the land. Her weight crushed some of the formations beneath her, and she slowly sank down into the water below as her thrusters smoked._

_Teeming crowds cheered in London as other planes returned, the Union Jack waved in a multitude of hands as the people celebrated. ‘V-DAY! IT’S OVER IN EUROPE’ was emblazoned on newsprint as uniformed soldiers threw up their hats and film reels recorded the men reunited with their women._

_Five glasses clinked together as James toasted, “To the Captain,” him, Dugan, Gabe, Jacques, and Jim drinking solemnly to the man. Around them, couples hugged, clapped hands, and drank in festivity._

_In a dark expanse of water, a searching robot drifted with long arms and hands to the azure glow of the Cube resting on the ocean floor._

_“Sir,” one of the seamen on the bridge called, Howard turning from where he was gazing out the window at the sheets of ice in the Arctic Ocean being navigated through. He approached where the man stood in front of a screen relaying the camera feed of the robot, standing to watch as the machine grasped the powerful object._

_“Take us to the next grid point,” he ordered of the man that had come up beside him._

_He stepped away to obey, the other pointing out, “But there’s no trace of wreckage,” looking to him, “and the energy signature stops here.”_

_Howard moved his stare onto the stretch before them, insisting, “Just keep looking.”_

Tony glared at the image before averting his gaze with tense shoulders.

_Phillips strode through SHIELD’s underground headquarters with file in hand and hung at his side as soldiers and scientists organised and packed away all of their files. He came to stand alongside where Peggy stood at an assortment of boxes, handing another file off to the woman beside her before turning to him and looking down at the sheaf he held in his hands. He left it in front of her, and then cast his eyes to the ground and walked away, and she slowly lifted it with furrowed brow._

_She read, ‘Strategic Scientific Reserve: Case Study BC283-33; CLASSIFIED; Captain America,’ and the red stamp declaring it ‘INACTIVE,’ before inhaling deeply and opening the cover. Surname, Christian name, address, military service no., date and place of birth, married, widower or single status, next-of-kin and relationship of were all information from Camp Lehigh glossed over, Peggy pausing at the sight of a portion of the photograph attached, the rest hidden by the flap of the folder. She breathed bracingly, glancing away as she pressed her lips together before gently sliding the picture out and lifting the image._

_Steve stood at attention wincing in the harsh sunlight, hair hanging limply over his forehead while his thin shoulders pulled the material of the white tee that elsewhere hung loose. His dog tags fell from around his neck to his chest._

Thor nodded slightly in accord with her feelings of loss, and the adjustments she would have to make in moving on with her life.

_A round trash can lid with interior painted in rings of red and white, star on blue in the center, was held in hand by a young boy, who beckoned to others. He led a group of five boys through the streets as they ran in play._

Tony pursed his lips.

_Faint, indistinct chatter drifted through the space as Steve’s fair eyes fluttered open, an announcer describing a baseball game as he blinked into consciousness. “…pitches, and it’s a curve ball, high and outside for ball one. So, the Dodgers are tied: 4-4. And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow’s capable of making it a brand-new game again.” His brows furrowed as he tilted his head slightly toward the source, the man remarking, “Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field.”_

Bruce leaned forward as the Steve on-screen rose into consciousness.

_He continued to appear confused as he turned away to survey the room, a fan slowly rotating above where he lay on top of a made bed. “The Phillies have managed to tie it up at 4-4, but the Dodgers have three men on.” The small lamp was switched on, on the night table to his right, though sunshine streamed in the open window and the curtains waved in a light breeze._

_He levered himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, gazing into the middle distance with his hands on the edge of the mattress as he listened. “Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month – wouldn’t the youngster like a hit here to return the favour? Pete leans in. Here’s the pitch. Swung on.” He abruptly turned to cast his eyes to stare at the window behind before switching it onto the little radio on the desk on the other side of the room he had glanced over. He gaped as it continued to dispatch, “A line to the right, and it gets past Rizzo! Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third, Durocher’s going to wave him in! Here comes the relay but they won’t get him.”_

_The sound of the door at the end of the bed opening drew his eyes, and a woman with dark hair curling over her shoulders stepped in. She wore a white blouse with a sharp tie done up over it, a long fitted skirt rising to her waist and falling to just below her knees as she smiled and greeted, “Good morning.”_

Bruce raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Interesting way to try and integrate him…”

Clint huffed and Natasha defended indifferently, “It was a good idea.”

_‘Pete Reiser with an inside the park Grand Slam…’ the radio imparted as she turned slightly to softly shut the door behind her. She looked at her watch and added, “-or should I say afternoon?” coming to a halt before him._

_“Where am I?” he questioned._

_She opened her mouth before quickly beginning again and answering, “You’re in a recovery room in New York City.”_

_He turned to the radio again and concentrated on the account of the game._

Loki narrowed his eyes. “What’s strange about the game?”

‘What?’ Thor uttered, confused, but Clint retorted with a gesture to the display, “You’ll hear.” 

_‘The Dodgers take the lead 8-4. Oh, Dodgers! Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game, indeed.’ His eyes flashed back to her, and he forcefully asked again, “Where am I really?”_

_She huffed a laugh with a slight shrug, replying, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”_

_“The game,” he retorted, “it’s from May, 1941 – I know ‘cause I was there.” Her smile fell and she pressed her lips together, impassive._

“Smooth, SHIELD…”

_He stood warily and squared up to her, uttering, “Now I’m going to ask you again…” He stared down at her. “Where am I?”_

_She pressed a button on the slim device hidden in her hand and a red light flashed, attempting to placate him with a ‘Captain Rogers,’ before he interrupted brusquely, “Who are you?”_

_The door opened at her back and she moved away as two armed soldiers entered, Steve’s eyes widening in surprise as he took a couple of steps back._

“He’s being ambushed!” Thor proclaimed in defence as Bruce winced, perceptive in what reaction that would garner.

“That wasn’t exactly the idea,” Natasha said. 

“This can’t end well,” Pepper commented in concern.

_His eyes glanced between the two as he gathered himself, straightening his shoulders._

_The men were hurled through the metal-reinforced drywall of the room to land flat on their backs, stunned, amidst the debris, and Steve leapt through the hole to look around at the concrete and metal expanse of the hall outside. He glanced to the side where a stretch of ‘wall’ depicted the familiar building shapes that had shown through the ‘window’ and quickly spun to run from the facsimile, despite the woman’s insistent, ‘Captain Rogers, wait!’_

“Damn,” Tony whistled. “That looks really bad.”

“He has to be scared,” Bruce murmured, and Loki cast his eyes onto him before nodding.

_She awkwardly climbed through the hole as he crashed through the exit doors, drawing a radio to relay, “All agents, Code 13,” as two other armed men appeared from behind her to pursue the Captain._

_‘I repeat, all agents, Code 13,’ echoed over the P.A. system as Steve came to a stop panting in the middle of the adjacent hall. He threw his head from side to side before those in suits and body armour going about their business were alerted to his presence and began pointing and giving chase. He flailed as he turned and ducked his head, violently dashing to slam his way past the couple of agents in his path and continue on out of the building._

_He sped out through the glass doors of one of the many polished buildings on the block, weaving through the mass of business people walking briskly to and from their places of work along the sidewalk and onto the street. He paused for only a second, standing between the incoming taxi and blue car as they honked jarringly, before sprinting with the traffic and only stopping again when stunned by Times Square._

_He whirled around at the large advertisements and television screens broadcasting the food, entertainment, and hotels of downtown Manhattan, mouth hanging open at the colours and technology and movement of the time he was abruptly thrust into._

“That’s one hell of a way to be introduced to the future,” Tony snorted.

_A series of black SUVs honked authoritatively as they drove through the crowds into the area to form a barricade, and he faced the bright headlights._

_“At ease, soldier,” a commanding voice called from behind him, and he turned away from the armed men to those in suits cordoning off the area. Director Fury stood in front of him, ensemble and eye patch black matt against the lustre of the city. He approached confidently as his men radioed orders to each other about reinforcements not being necessary and rerouting the traffic, and stated, “Look, I’m sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”_

_“Break what?” he breathed._

_“You’ve been asleep, Cap,” he answered straight-forwardly, “for almost seventy years.”_

_He blinked and stared with brows furrowed in distress at his surroundings, shaking his head as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, turning away to continue gazing at the billboards of the city skyscrapers. Fury watched, and asked in veiled concern, “You gonna be okay?”_

_“Yeah,” he responded, “yeah, I just-” He stopped and stared, voicing dully, “I had a date.”_

“Fuck,” Tony sighed. He shook his head and stood, exiting as Pepper furrowed her eyebrows and cast her eyes to Steve’s closed door before following him to the elevator.

Bruce leaned back and pressed a hand to his forehead, Natasha standing as the elevator doors closed. As she walked towards them, Thor, Clint, and Loki all got to their feet as well. Bruce allowed a lengthy exhale before standing and trailing Clint to wait with Natasha as Thor moved towards Steve’s half and Loki lingered to grab him by the shoulder.

“Do not intrude if he’s isolated himself,” he cautioned, the other three noting their conversation.

“He needs us,” Thor hissed in objection.

“Not this instant,” he insisted. “If the door is left open or he moves into a common area, then speak with him. But before that he needs to gather himself – this experience left him raw.”

Thor pursed his lips, but nodded sharply in acquiesce and sat down on the couch.

The elevator doors opened again and the four left the floor to rise to their own.


	11. Wounded

Even as he squeezed his eyes shut, hunched back leaning against the closed door, the image of Peggy’s pleading, tear-stained face remained vivid in his mind. Steve attempted to breathe, but his chest kept catching at the thought of what she had to go through – what they had all (except for him) gone through at the end of the war. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes as he struggled to compose himself.

The sounds of the disc were muffled sufficiently that he could not hear anything distinct while he actively blocked the noise from his mind, but he blinked out of his fretfulness at the reverberation of the elevator. _‘Was it over?’_ he wondered. His head lolled to the side so an ear faced the door, and then the two Asgardians were arguing on the other side of it. His entire body tensed at Loki’s words, at Thor wanting to talk to him. His hands trembled. He jerked abruptly and swiftly snapped his wrist to turn the lock before wincing. _‘What am I doing?’_

Thankfully, Thor yielded to Loki’s urgings and Steve was not at all confronted. He inhaled deeply, and then gustily exhaled. As he stood he grit his teeth in frustration, before moving further into his rooms. He clumsily stripped off his clothing and changed into looser attire for sleep, thinking, _‘I could have just told him that I didn’t want to talk, if he_ had _knocked. Instead I locked the door- What am I even afraid of?_

 _‘I do have to adjust- live here, in this time. I’m going to have to talk to them all. But not really about this… Most of them knew the story, and now they’ve all seen it. It’s in the past.’_ He paused, pursing him lips. _‘Everything is.’_

He shook his head, clenched his fists, and then purposefully tried to relax. Slipping into the bed, Steve lay on his side though his muscles remained tense. He closed his eyes and resolutely pushed the reawakened, persistent memories down, clearing his mind for sleep.

* * *

_**“G-Give me your coordinates – I’ll find you a safe landing site.”** _

_**“There’s not gonna be a safe landing.”** _

_Peggy’s voice caught as she pleaded, eyes glistening, **“Please, don’t do this. W-We have time- We can work it out.”**_

_**“Peggy,”** he comforted earnestly, **“this is my choice.”**_

_She closed her eyes, moving to shake her head in an act of silent protest as she pressed her lips together._

_His eyes never wavered from the encroaching land as he resolutely tilted the yoke down, and the aircraft dove sharply. The icy shoreline drew closer in the spread of windowpanes. The wind howled as the plane hurtled through the air, his breathing shaky as his wide eyes stared at the ground growing more detailed with every second._

_Then, between one and the next, the sound of rent metal ripped through his ears as the force of the impact threw him forward and over the controls. “Steve?” he imagined he heard faintly, sounding distressed as biting cold swept into the space and the plane was thrown sideways, half of the craft submerged quickly. Landing roughly on his back, he gasped as he arched in pain before choking on water, the ocean waves crashing in and filling the interior._

_He felt his muscles attempt to thrash as the blinding white of the snow was eclipsed by the shadows the ceiling cast into the water, but the cold numbed everything. His muscles seized as he was suspended in the freezing water, unable to feel anything as blue tinged his skin. His eyes were forced shut as he emit a final, full-body tremor, lips stained violet and closed over the liquid in his lungs as ice crept in rivulets through the flooded plane._

Steve woke abruptly, wrenching himself through the sheets and off of the bed to land hard on all fours and vomit on the floor. Retching as his unfocused eyes darted around the room, he spit and then inhaled shakily at realising he was not drowning – and then again at recognising the room.

“Mr. Rogers?” JARVIS inquired tentatively, Steve scrambling to throw his back against a wall and crouch defensively. He blinked, and then collapsed with his knees up.

“I’m fine,” he gasped, before clutching at his chest and stomach and inhaling deeply. He insisted, stronger, “I’m fine, really.” He looked to the clock, 3:27am, forcefully stilling his trembling. “Don’t wake anyone. I don’t need anyone.”

His breathing became shallow in the silence that followed, half in remembrance of the water and half in fear of JARVIS’ response. Then the AI said, “…As you wish, sir.”

He exhaled heavily, closing his eyes and breathing for a moment before the internal chill felt urged him to stand and move into the bathroom. Turning on the tap, he rubbed his hands under the scalding water before splashing his face. He gripped the edges of the counter, leaning back and staring at the floor, as the droplets smattered the counter and fell from his chin. He basked in the fire-like heat on his skin and prayed that between it and the steam from the running faucet he would regain fire instead of ice in his core. 

Hunching his shoulders and lowering his head further in reluctance, he gazed back at the floor he had spewed all over. Fingers clamping around the edge of marble he righted himself and grabbed a cloth from under the sink. Dampening it, Steve walked back into the bedroom and dropped to his knees to begin scrubbing at the hardwood.

* * *

Loki lay on his back in bed, in track shorts and a T-shirt on top of the covers, brow furrowed as he ran through the entirety of the film they had viewed. He then added the behaviour he had witnessed during the invasion. Unfortunately, he had been so sporadically invested in Steve afterwards and so had no way to conclude how well or badly he was coping. There was evidence of grief and insomnia before he had been gathered to fight for SHIELD, but had that been left to fester into darker conditions?

He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, contemplating the ways in which the Captain could externalise his pain before his attention was called and he sat up in surprise. He tilted his head and traced the prayers pleading for the comfort of heat and fire to the floor below him, and the very man his thoughts had been occupied with. He frowned as he delved further into the appeal without hesitation, finding snippets of terror, panic, anxiety, dread, and shame linked to the suffering having arisen from the nightmares. 

He closed his eyes and shifted to sit cross-legged, arms limp so that the inside of his wrists rested on his knees. He grounded the other’s perception of the room, and the time, easing his panic, and then warmed his body temperature. He foresaw an issue with him fearing drowning as well as freezing, but could not prevent the nightmares – Steve was already hindering his recovery with his attempts to supress the memories and emotions connected to them.

Loki waited as Steve moved back into the bathroom, watching as he stared at the tap before lowering the temperature with a sigh. The god nodded at his soothing his hands with lukewarm water before leaving the display and looking into the common area. Thor had fallen into a restless sleep on the couch, on his side with his arms curled to his chest and furrowed brow. Loki moved his magic to prod the edges of Thor’s magical signature, a bit of fine mist agitating the sporadic curl, and he started to stir.

Thor blinked, levering himself up from where he was lying on the couch. He cast his gaze to the large, curtained, floor-to-ceiling windows before standing to walk over to them. He pushed the material aside to view the night sky, and then drew the other away from the center so that the city lights could better shine in and illuminate the space. At the sound of a door cautiously opening, he turned, and met the wary expression of Steve as he peeked out of his room.

“What’re you doing up?” he questioned, averting his gaze from Thor for a second before seeming to straighten and open the door so to fully exit.

The god offered in reply, “I awoke not long ago – I am merely troubled by your sorrows.” Before Steve’s embarrassment could fully manifest, he cast his eyes out the window again, and said, “The stars are different here.”

He blinked, approaching the other slowly, and conceded, “I guess they must be.” He joined him at the window. “You can barely see them anymore, though… I think it’s odd every time I look up – there weren’t nearly as many buildings and lights before.”

“Asgard is the opposite,” Thor began. “She is quiet at night, the stars and dust bright, and by day the structures gleam in the sunlight.”

They stood in silence for a moment, and then Thor found himself presented with a small smile. “Since you’re up,” he started, moving away, “I was going down to work out.”

“We shall spar!” he exclaimed in agreement, and Steve chortled before shushing the god and warning him about his volume.

* * *

Loki left the two alone once it was clear that Thor was not going to try and comfort the Captain by tactlessly detailing everything he had undergone, breathing deeply as he loosened his position and laid on his back again. The two would get little – if any – sleep, but the companionship would allow for Steve to assimilate to the idea of sharing his thoughts with his friends. More so than violently punching a heavy bag and dwelling on his perceived inadequacies, anyway.

He shook his head and heaved himself up once more, tumbling carelessly off of the bed to stand and move into the common area of his own floor. He laid flat on the three-cushioned couch with his arms folded under his head, one leg bent with a bare foot on the opposite armrest and the other straightened to hang over it. He stared up at the plain ceiling, dark although the room itself was dimly lit to his eyes because of the small lights on the various electronics.

He began to muse, _‘Thor hasn’t been sleeping well as of late, but sparring has always been an exercise of companionship with his friends… It will ease him further into the relationship with his teammates here. Steve has used training as a way to exhaust his body and mind also, but with another present he won’t be so likely to slip into self-chastisement.’_ He frowned. That the Captain resorted to severe heat and directing irritation inward was worrying.

* * *

_Abandoned in an enclosure only lit faintly by the dim stars surrounding, he lay on the rough terrain occasionally writhing or succumbing to a particularly violent, full-body twitch. He clenched his jaw, teeth gritting as his muscles spasm at the pain. His magic was being kept from him, bound tightly and choked- He jerked his uncooperative body onto its side and curled his knees to his chest, one part comfort and one part warmth._

‘You’re a Frost Giant,’ _he thought snidely._ ‘What – can’t you bear it? There is no fire here, no magic, NOTHING. You are left alone, here – no one could find you, even if someone mustered up the care to look. This is what you were born from: darkness, filth, cold. And THIS weakness – look at you! Praying, begging, for your ‘family’ – **this frailty is why you were left to DIE.** ’

* * *

Loki heaved himself up, glaring at the opposite wall with pursed lips, and then moved with lurching limbs to the elevator. He rode up one floor and then disembarked, pausing in the dark of the common not dissimilar to the one his rooms were adjoined to. Rubbing his fingers together, he strode silently through the area to his archer’s rooms. Opening the door, he crept through the kitchenette to the bedroom, leaning against the frame as though content to watch his hawk sleep.

He was, however Loki was well aware that Clint was not actually unconscious and sensed his observation. He would be content enough until spoken to.

Involuntarily his posture eased, and he slouched against the wall as his breathing evened out. He wondered if he necessarily needed to speak with the other, but leaving now would parallel Clint’s own approach of Loki. He was not present for reassurance or comfort.

Suddenly Clint sighed and levered himself onto his elbows from where he lay on his stomach, glancing to Loki’s form, darkly shadowed to his eyes but innately perceptible as the trickster god, and shaking his head. He moved to sit cross-legged, yawning, and Loki stepped to the side of the bed. His hawk jerked his head to the side in a nod of acquiesce to his company, and Loki crawled onto the bed to fold himself into the same position. His eyes lingered on the portion of neck bared before the other turned to him and muttered, “Couldn’t sleep anyway.”

He hummed and asked, “Which aspects are troubling you, in particular?”

The other raised an eyebrow. “Which aren’t? The way he woke up, though – that’ll cause problems, if it hasn’t already. Obviously one of Fury’s main concerns isn’t counselling for this sort of thing.”

“No… And it really should be-” Loki narrowed his eyes. “-considering that he must be aware of the trauma involved in the development of his ‘heroes’.”

Clint nodded again. When a moment passed with Loki continuing to gaze into the middle distance he stared at him inquiringly. Loki turned to him with a raised brow and uttered a ‘what?’ He shrugged, but a smirk flashed across his mouth as he questioned, “Do you wanna stay here?”

Loki purposefully stretched his lips into a wide, cruel smirk in rebuke of the mockery of the comfort he himself offered when his hawk had been troubled, and the other’s throat resonated with a gulp. He leaned closer as Clint completely stilled and declared, “I don’t exactly need your permission.”

His pet’s pupils dilated, although he wondered if in fear or arousal. He decided fear as he began to smell adrenaline on his skin and to hear his heart rate increase. He waited as Clint worked himself up, tilting his head in consideration of the other and speculating as to which aspect of their interaction in particular he had latched onto. “Is there anything else you’re going to do,” his mortal started carefully, “that you don’t exactly need my permission for?”

 _'Ah, so that’s it,'_ he thought, remarking carelessly, “I hardly need to take you by force – you’ve already offered yourself to me once.” Clint’s eyes hardened. Loki pushed further. “I anticipate you will do so again.”

The dark god did not bother to block the punch but rather moved swiftly to the side so that he could grab his impudent pet’s wrist as it flew past his ear. Likewise, he did not try to avoid the tackle that accompanied the action but rather twisted with the other’s momentum and pinned him roughly to the bed. Clint appeared to have reverted back to tense motionless in the hopes of not provoking him further, which was a more intelligent choice considering his disadvantageous position-

-underneath him.

_'I hadn’t noticed before – how your eyes are darker, more the colour of steel, around the edges. Or that there’s a green sheen to the blue-grey…'_

Loki closed his eyes and craned his neck to lower his head onto the fragile ridge of Clint’s collar bone, sighing lengthily before he breathed, “It’s the waiting that’s truly awful.”

Reluctantly he released him, refusing to meet his eyes as he climbed off of the mattress and exited.

Clint watched him leave, and then closed his eyes as he turned away.

* * *

Early morning dawned with Steve and Thor serenely, if a bit awkwardly due to avoiding the obvious topic of conversation at hand, eating breakfast. Somewhat abruptly, a silence having fallen with the lull in conversation, JARVIS called their attention with an announcement.

“Sir has gathered everyone for an outing to supply those lacking clothing with articles more appropriate.” As Thor furrowed his brow and looked down at his ensemble in consideration and Steve blinked up at the ceiling in surprise, the A.I. continued to inform, “He and Ms. Potts are with Agents Barton and Romanov in the underground parking. Dr. Banner and the Sorcerer are descending to your floor now.”

Both blonds hastily consumed the last of their meals while they lifted the used dishware and cutlery to the sink, the elevator doors opening. Bruce meekly stepped out of the lift, rubbing his hands together in front of him as he cast a glance between the two for a brief moment before asking, “Are you ready to go?”

“Just heard about it,” Steve answered in consternation as he moved forward, but Loki allied his disgruntlement when he commented swiftly,

“We were not awarded any great forewarning either.” His sharp eyes scrutinised the other Æsir and his usual dress of leather in contrast to the borrowed cotton T-shirt and slacks he himself wore. “You will not easily be able to constantly change into Midgardian clothing from that.”

Thor crossed his arms defensively and opened his mouth to retort, but Steve smiled slightly and uttered a ‘Come on,’ as he doubled back to guide him to his half and lend him an alternative outfit for the day.

With him now sporting a flannel shirt over khakis, the four entered the elevator and were brought down to the basement levels of the building.

“-taking him? Why?”

“Because we aren’t all going to fit in one car so we have to split up anyway-” Tony stopped and turned his head as they approached, but Pepper’s narrowed eyes remained on him. “Good news, super-soldier, you get to ride with me,” he crowed with a grin, looking at Steve over his dark sunglasses. “Everyone else is with Pepper.”

“I still don’t see why I can’t drive,” Natasha countered.

“Cause I bet I’d have to pay for it – at least Pep’s on the insurance.”

“That seems like an odd split,” Steve said leadingly, jumping back to the division and concurring with Pepper’s suspicion about the decision.

“It’s not like anyone’ll be crowded,” he argued with a raised brow, already moving to one of his Corvettes as if the matter was not up for discussion, “They’re taking the Lincoln.”

Pepper played with the keys in her hand as she watched Tony get into the streamlined car and then worriedly looked to Steve. He masked his discomfort with a small smile and expression that he hoped conveyed how he could take care of himself to reassure her, and then walked to the same car as the rest climbed into the other vehicle.

He did not know what ulterior motive Tony had for getting him alone, but knew that he would not have to wait long for him to reveal it if it was to be resolved before they got to the nearby mall. What he had not expected was for Tony to loop around the block he had heard Pepper mention only to neatly Parallel Park and pull out his cell. Steve’s shoulders tensed as he quickly dialed a number.

“Hey – could I get Peggy for a sec? Yeah, I’ll hold.”

The colours of the advertisements on the buildings outside faded, the noises blending together as Steve inhaled sharply and stared through the windshield with glazed eyes and pulse beating in his ears. He tried to breathe out only to slowly gather in another breath, a voice chiding harshly, “Don’t be a coward.”

He turned, eyes wide, to Tony, who was holding out the phone.

He stared at it, hearing the call of ‘Steve!’ in his mind from a control center so very far away.

He lifted a shaking hand to grasp the cell and put it to his ear. _“Hello?”_ a husky female voice greeted, accent lilting and familiar and forcing his eyes to shut.

“Hey, Pegs,” he answered softly, and he heard a raspy gasp.

_“…Steve?”_

“Yeah, it’s me.”

 _“Y-You’re alive?”_ she choked out. _“Y-You’re back?”_

He chuckled hoarsely, keeping his eyes shut as he pictured her. She was lying comfortably on a bed, shock showing on her aged features – proving she had lived a long, full life. “I’m sorry- that I left you. That I didn’t come.”

 _“Oh, Steve…”_ she sighed. _'Was she crying?' “What happened?”_

“Was frozen for a while,” he explained haltingly, blinking at the daylight and traffic lights and headlights as he continued, “a long while.” He could always talk to her, and he knew, on some level, that she understood what this meant for him. Before she could compose a return filled with compassion and sympathy, though, that would make him tear up further, he said, “I’m glad for you. And you should be proud of yourself. You founded S.H.I.E.L.D., married, and lived a life.”

_“Yes… but what of you, now?”_

“…”

_“It’s not the same, is it?”_

“No,” he responded. “I’m with S.H.I.E.L.D., but…I’m not quite sure I know what I’m supposed to be doing anymore.”

 _“Live,”_ she urged. _“You saved the world. It may have changed, and you might not be able to go back, but you can start over. You don’t have a responsibility to anyone of the past. It wasn’t you that ruined what became of the present. Look to those around you._

 _“Look to the future. L-Live your life now-”_ She was cut off by a fit of coughs that tapered into wheezes, Steve suddenly pulled back from absentmindedly musing to sit straighter in his seat.

The seatbelt was tight over his chest as he clenched the phone to his ear, calling, “Peggy?”

She gasped, _“Steve.”_

His brow furrowed, and he uttering a confused, “Yeah?”

 _“Y-You’re alive,”_ she said, again. _“Y-You’re- You’re back.”_

Cold flashed through his limbs as he answered dully, “Yeah.” He clawed the seatbelt’s release to the strap quickly retracting, and then was out of the car and stumbling through the crowded sidewalks. _'Get away,'_ his thoughts chanted. But he kept the phone pressed tight to his ear.

_“Oh, Steve.”_

“I’m sorry,” he said, ducking around a corner so he stood in one of the slim alleys between shops. “I’m so sorry.” He lowered his head as his blue eyes swam in anguish, swallowing loudly.

 _“It’s been so long,”_ she whined, and Steve’s expression again morphed into one of desolation. _“So long.”_

He croaked, “Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance.” His smile was fleeting. “I’m going to visit.”

_“Oh, oh, Steve…”_

_'I can’t-'_

He whipped the cell away and it smashed against the opposite wall.

Breathing hard, he leaned back against the brick behind him and stared, wondering why. _'Why did this have to happen? I had my time – I should have DIED. And now I can’t- I can’t even comfort the loved one who was left alone to deal with it all? Because, no matter what, she won’t remember it?'_

A hand landed on his shoulder. He snarled, twisting to punch Tony and denting the metal of the gauntlet held to guard his face. Steve pulled his fist back, but stepped forward to lean over the brunet as he asked, “Why?”

“Because you need to deal with it.”

Steve shook his head, averting his eyes as he clenched his fists and jaw, and strode away. Tony retracted the gauntlet of the Mark V and pulled another cellphone out of his pocket. He shot off a text before following him.


End file.
